Dead Memories
by IAmTheRevelation
Summary: She was struck with lack of speech and nightmares at night of what seemed like memories creeping back. She remembers vivid images of a boy whom she thinks she loved and a team of people called W.I.C.K.E.D. When Thomas enters the Glade can he help her remember? Also, can the two of them learn to feel what was suppressed for so long?
1. Fragmented

**I've only recently began reading the Maze Runner. Also, I just watched the Maze Runner movie not too long ago. So, with my limited knowledge of the Maze Runner and my love of writing and Dylan O'Brian-"Thomas"- I give you a very twisted story of the Maze Runner. I hope each of you enjoy it and let me know if there is anything you'd enjoy seeing.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Maze Runner- although if I owned Thomas I'd be significantly happier…**

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><p>"<em>Get…me…out!"<em>

I beat violently at the top of the chain-link cage, shaking the thing. My hands are slick with blood from trying to pull apart the cage, the wire splicing my skin. I feel blood drip onto my face and it doesn't faze me as I beat and kick at the cage. The steel cage doesn't budge or loosen. The only thing it does is create more cuts on my palms and fingers, digging into my flesh, cutting away skin until it reaches the tendons and bones.

The cage is pitch black. In here I see nothing- I hear nothing. The only things I hear are my rabid screams of terror and the rattling of the cage. Over and over again I throw myself at the cage, clawing to get out. To find an escape. The cage rattles and creaks, but it doesn't give way to my body weight. The screws never break loose. If anything the cage strengthens, steeling against my body weight like the hardiest metal.

I see a red flashing light. I hear the sound of a buzzer and the cage begins to speed up. My fingers are ripped violently from the cage and I feel my body meet the metal floor of the thing. The breath leaves my body as I hit the floor, pain radiating through my body. I pull myself into a standing position, clinging to the cage as I stare up. The flashing red light gives way to the darkness. I see concrete walls marked with numbers and stringed with vines and mold. The red light begins to fade as I see an opening- the tiniest crack in the world that turns into a wide opening, revealing what seems like sunlight. I turn my head away, blinded by the light. The cage jerks to a stop and I feel my head meet the stop of the steel cage, my body slamming down to the steel floor.

"It's the cage!" I hear a voice scream. I cower back in the corner, breathing heavily. I close my eyes, clutching my shirt as I hear the cage opening. It creaks loudly and the cage rumbles with somebody's body weight. I struggle to press myself back into the cage, hoping to hide. I cling to a hope I'll be looked over- that they'll take whatever is in the cage and leave me behind. I know not whether I'll be killed…whether I'll die here with a bunch of savages.

I see a pair of dark eyes. "It's a….it's a girl?"

I stare at the figure now. It's a tall, dark skinned boy. His head is clean shaven and he looks strong. The cage rumbles with weight once more- another boy joining him. A boy with blonde hair and a serious face next to him, staring. "Hell, we haven't seen one of these in a long time." He reaches out to touch me and I flinch away, heart pounding in my chest. "Chill out, Greenbean- it's okay."

The dark skinned boy scowls the blonde. "Gally, no; don't touch her."

"She's little, Alby," Gally argues. He inches closer to me and I press myself to the cage as hard as I can. "Greenie here put up a fight. Look at her fingers- cut clear to the bone…" I feel his hand on my face, forcing me to look at him.

I shove him, jumping out of the cage. I stumble, gaining my footing and I propel myself forwards with the friction of my feet and the earth. I hear laughing from behind, cheers ringing in my ears. I don't know why I'm here. I don't know who put me here. Hell, I don't even know who I am- I don't remember what I look like; I don't remember my name. All I know is that I'm a girl and that I'm here, in this hell. I just want to go home…if I have a home. Surely I have a home. Surely somebody misses me…

The cheering from behind continues. "We've got a Runner!" The cacophony of male voices ends when I'm tackled to the ground, held there tightly. I use my mutilated hands to try and pry the person off- scratch, spit, punch, hit. I think I land a few good ones until my arms are held over my head, a stony voice delivering a warning.

"I had strongly suggest that you'd keep your hands to yourself, Greenie," the blonde, Gally, spits. "God grant you, you're small, but that doesn't mean a thing to me."

The dark boy, Alby, jerks him off. "That's quite enough, Gally. Quit being a Shank; make yourself useful elsewhere."

"She has to learn respect from somewhere," Gally quips.

Alby shakes his head. "Well she certainly isn't learning it from you." Alby settles me on my feet, dusting off my shirt. "You're awful tiny." Dark eyes search me over and Alby looks towards a boy with dirty blonde hair. "Newt, how old do you think she is? Greenbean may be around Chuck's age?"

The boy, Newt, walks over. He's a skinny boy with shaggy amber hair that falls down into his dark eyes. "Eh…say she's a little older than that. She has a more mature look to her. Maybe fourteen or fifteen years?" Newt smiles gently, ruffling my hair. I jump back, pushing hair out of my eyes that looks reddish and blonde. "Easy there, Blue Eyes. We ain't gonna hurt ya'."

I stare between them, gasping when I finally feel stinging in my hands. I look down, looking at the ground that is spotted with my blood. I lift my hands, taking in sight of them, realizing when I've done. Flesh is missing here and there from all the pulling I had done at the cage. How long was I in there to sustain the kind of damage to my hands? I remember I was in there for maybe an hour, yelling and screaming. The darkness was terrifying and the sickly sweet silence was enough to make anybody be on edge.

Alby looks over my hands. He grimaces, holding each hand gently. "We'll have to stitch these suckers up. Make sure they stay clean. Greenbean's welcoming party can wait a while." Alby takes two clean clothes from his pockets, binding my bloodied hands to stop the blood flow. I see him smile. "C'mon, let's go." Together we walk to a little place he calls the Village. He talks nonsense. He tries to maybe make me laugh? Whatever it is, it is unsuccessful. People stare at me- a multitude of boys staring me down- like they've never seen a girl in their lives.

I try to remember- conjure something to memory. I try to remember if I had family- I'm sure I did; I mean I have parents. I think I have friends. But I can't remember who I am. It's a pain to remember what I look like. All I have memory of is Newt calling me "Blue Eyes" and him ruffling my hair that was strawberry blonde. But who am I? What is my name?

"You don't talk, do you?" Alby says. "It's okay. I'm sure you're just taking a lot in." I take a shaky breath. I open my mouth, struggling to form words. Alby nods encouragingly, eyes bright. "That's it, Greenie. Take your time."

"How…come…don't…'member…name," I say, frustrated. I shake my head. Did I forget how to speak all of a sudden, too? "Don't…'member name."

Alby pats my back. "It comes back within a day or two. Don't let it get you down, kid." He looks at me, leading me over to a small house-like thing. He settles me down at a table, bringing over a shredded blanket, laying it beneath my hands. "As for your speech, I don't know. We can work on that, though." He brings out a medical kit, pulling out disinfectants and needle and thread.

I flinch as Alby begins the process of stitching my hands back together. "Where?" I ask, that the only word my stubborn tongue will form. "What…is…place?"

Alby chuckles. "This is called the Glade. All of us boys- and now you, Greenie Girl- live here."

I cock an eyebrow at him. "Get out?"

Alby shakes his head. "We've been trying to get out for years."

"This place…why?" My fragmented sentences are clear enough for him to understand effectively- for that I am grateful. "Trapped?"

"We don't know. Beyond our Glade is a place called the Maze. You'll understand with some more time," Alby replies, cutting off the suture. "It's dangerous, Greenie. Tomorrow, when the walls are open, you do not go out there. You do not leave the Glade."

I nod, wanting to scream out when I feel the needle pierce my skin once more, pulling the skin, flesh, and tendons together. Instead I take it, trying to remember. I want to remember. I want to remember somebody- to remember anything. I want to remember everything.

…

"Can't…not here," I protest.

Gally huffs. "C'mon, Greenie, we're not going to jump your bones or anything." He gestures to the hammock they've fashioned for me out of sturdy rope and a blanket. "Get in- sleep. Do you remember how to sleep?"

I turn to look at him. "Dick."

We narrow out eyebrows at each other. Gally scoffs. "For somebody who speaks so little you have a big vocabulary. Shut the hell up and go to sleep."

"Not sleeping here," I argue.

Newt comes from behind us along with a chubby boy whom I learned was named Chuck. "If she's uncomfortable, she is uncomfortable. She's in a camp full of strange boys whom she hasn't seen before and she doesn't know. Until then she bunks _separate_." The voice is Newt's. I turn to look at him and he and Chuck smiles warmly.

Gally rolls his eyes. "Whatever. I expect you up bright an early in the morning, Queen Greenie." With that he takes his rightful hammock, covering up with a blanket. I look back at Chuck and Newt. Chuck is a curly haired boy with big eyes and is well- he's chubby. He has this child-like nature to him that seems to ease the feeling of the tension in the air. Newt- I find him nice. He's nice and quiet with a cute boyishness that I find endearing. But nothing else…

"C'mon, we made you a little place of your own. We figured that maybe you could use some quiet tonight," Newt says. "Besides, you don't look like you were too happy to be over there near Gally."

I give a small chuckle. "Really…think? Asshole." Newt and Chuck begins laughing, leading me to a secluded part of their bunks- should I call them hammocks? Hell, I don't know.

"Indeed Gally is an asshole," Newt says. "He'll warm up with some time. Just sleep, Greenie." Newt tosses me a blanket, smiling cheekily. "See you come sunrise. Sleep well, Greenbean." He salutes me in a funny manner and I sink down into my hammock, covering up with the thin blanket. I could hear them whispering- the whispers are about me, of course. I turn my backs to them and I hear whistles. It doesn't take a genius to figure out they're probably staring at my rear.

Over their whistles I hear a scream. "You shucking idiots- leave the Greenie alone. I'll kill each one of you klink heads." It is Alby no doubt. "No go to shucking sleep and so help me God if I hear another peep…" I smile wildly as I hear him fuss at the gang of boys.

"Good night, Greenie!" the boys chorus.

I roll my eyes. "Well, Blue Eyes, answer!" Newt laughs out and I roll over in my hammock. I see Newt and Chuck lying in their hammocks, their beds side by side. "We're not getting any younger!"

"Night…guys!" I call back around my clumsy tongue. They give approving noises and I chuckle, curling up tightly in my hammock. I feel gazes on me and I huff, forcing myself off into a sleep I know I will not enjoy in the least.

"_Lizzie, please don't go through with this…" He has dark hair and big brown eyes. He holds my hands, running his thumb across my knuckles. "You know how dangerous this all is. You know half the people who go through the Swipe don't make it." He touches my face, stroking my cheek. _

_I smile, squeezing his hands back. "Thom, it's okay. I know how dangerous this is. We made this didn't we? Thomas, we're going to make this. I'll make this. You know I will."_

_Thomas shakes his head. "No. God grant you I'm terrified of this all, but one thing scares me more than it all." His chocolate eyes are filled with terror. I can't describe the pain he goes through. "Lizzie, I'm begging you."_

_I lean closer to him. "Tell me, Thomas. What scares you the most? Is it about me going through the Swipe? Maybe the stages of Trials?"_

"_None of that will scare me more than the fact that if we make it and we're sent into the Maze, we will have forgotten. Lizzie, I love you," Thomas says. "Please, don't do this. Don't do this to me. Don't do this to us." His eyes glisten with tears and I feels tears streak down my face. I yank Thomas to me, hiding my head in his chest._

_We stand there a minute before Thomas pulls back and he touches my face, drying away all the tears. "Thomas, no matter what they put in our heads- what they tell us through those microchips-we know the truth somewhere deep down. I love you and you'll never forget it. I'll never forget it."_

_Thomas smashes his lips against mine, salty tears streaking down his face. "I love you." He says it like a mantra, hugging me to his body. We sit in the stark white room, holding each other, rocking back and forth for hours. Sometime a man comes, snatching away Thomas. Suddenly I don't want to let go. No…I can't let Thomas go._

"_Lizzie!" Thomas screeches. Face blood red and eyes wide, he clings to me, resisting the pull of the guard. He screams and fights, asking the guard- no, he begs him- to let him go. Then I feel the stab of a sharp pain in my back, my entire world going fuzzy. "No! Lizzie! You bastards! Lizzie!"_

I'm being shaken, snapped out of the dream. "Hey, Greenie, wake the hell up!" I feel my hammock being flipped over and my body meets the dirt of the ground. I cough and sputter at the air until hands jerk me up. My eyes flicker upwards to see Newt steadying me. He gives me a look. "Greenie, you okay? You scared the shucking life out of me."

"Dream…horrible. Horrible dream," I sputter. I still think of him- of Thomas. I'm so confused, though… No, I'm not the monster that put us here. No! No! I didn't ship myself here. But I can't comprehend the rest. What scared me was that it was so vivid and clear…

Newt nods. "Want to talk about it, Greenie?"

I shake my head, hiding my face in my legs. "No." _"Lizzie!" _His screams wrack my head- Thomas.

"C'mon, Greenbean…"

I snap my head up to Newt. He looks surprised at the action and I give him a look. It is as if I've something in my head has clicked. _"Lizzie." _The boy had been calling me Lizzie. He said it time and time again. Me- I'm Lizzie.I open my mouth, struggling to speak. "Stop. No. No name… Not my name."

Newt's eyes twinkle. He bends down in front of me, smiling wildly. "You can say it." His eyes sparkle as he calls his friends over, Chuck the first one to skid to a halting stop. "She remembers! Go ahead, then. Say it!"

"L. It starts…L," I say. I form out the name, forcing my clumsy tongue to say to the names. "Lizzie." I feel a smile on my face. "My name…Lizzie! I'm Lizzie!"

Alby, who joined Chuck and Newt, laughs. "You most certainly are. Welcome to the Glade, Lizzie." He shakes my hand, squeezing it tightly. Alby lifts me up, throwing his fist in the air. "Lizzie!" I'm crowded by the boys, being flipped and turned and tossed. They chant my name again and again, dancing around, celebrating who I am, who I apparently was…who I am to be.

…

"The Maze?" I ask. I look at Newt and Chuck, looking to the ground where I was planting a row of cucumbers. "Nobody answered."

Newt nods understandingly. "Ah, I see. Alby said you asked some questions last night." He drops tomatoes into a basket, piling them into a tall red mountain. "What do you want to know, love? We usually just let the Greenies find out theirselves. Funniest when it happens at night."

Chuck chuckles. "Remember when the sections switched first time I came?"

"Never forget that night," Newt says. His eyes flicker back to me and he smiles. "So, Lizzie, what do you want to know?"

I cover a pile of cucumber seeds with dirt. "Sounds. Make noise…like…like locks. Changing. Switching."

"You have the right idea, sweetheart. That is the Maze changing," Newt says. "Last night you probably heard it changing. Each night different sections come out- maybe Section 3 or say Section 8. A crazy mix of em' all."

I nod, taking his explanation to heart. "The Maze… Creatures sounded last night."

Newt nods at Chuck. "Take over for me. Sounds like I have some things to explain to our lovely female friend here." Newt looks over at me, his warm brown eyes shining. I manage a smile at him, but something doesn't click with him like with the boy in my memory- Thomas.

That single name- a name I strangely value above all others. I value it above Chuck's; I value it above Alby's; I value it above Newt's. I value it above my own- Lizzie. His name bounds around in my head like a broken recording. _"Thomas…Thomas…Thomas."_


	2. Flashback

**Five reviews- that is five more than I expected! I'm so glad everybody enjoyed the first chapter as I was panicked I'd mess up (I did here and there, though.) I hope everybody continues to follow this and if there is something that bothers you don't hesitate to tell me.**

**T-L: I'm happy you liked it! It make me feel tons better that I've clearly made a fan. Also, I loved the movie. I loved the actors they had portray each of them- Dylan O'Brian was awesome as Thomas and the boy who played Newt I loved. I couldn't take Gally seriously because the guy who portrayed him played in "We're the Millers."**

**Java60072: Thanks so much! I'm glad you enjoyed it.**

**divergentlover523: I'm glad you liked the story! Also…it is pretty amazing, isn't it? Hahaha, hope you keep reading!**

**BloodyCrankShank: No! I took no offence to your review. If anything it will help me make this story even stronger. You pointed out some things I should have recognized and should have changed- just got a bit wrapped up in it is all. My modern-day cussing- it was a struggle to really use the Glader Slang, no matter how hard I tried. I'll strive to make this chapter as Glader-like as possible. Also, I'm sorry for the abrupt time change- I've always had problems with time transitions. Also, for Thomas' little nickname I've seen people spell it "Tom," or "Thom." God grant you the spelling Thom is strange but I thought it would be different since the Maze Runner is a very different book. Nonetheless I hope you enjoy this chapter and may your high hopes and expectations be filled! (P.S, awesome name! BloodyCrankShank...sounds catchy!)**

**GwenLjung21: Lizzie is her own character aside from Teresa. I made her as the first female in the Maze before Teresa…I thought it'd be fun to write about. Hope you enjoy the rest of the story!**

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><p>Thoughts race through my head- thoughts I don't know how to comprehend. Thoughts I can't make sense of and struggle to understand- to so much as remember them. All that comes to mind is a dark nothingness I can't see through. The one thing that I can still vaguely see is the dream of the young boy and me. I can still hear him screaming for me…reaching for me. I still feel the pain of a stabbing action and the fatigue that followed. Everything else is so…so blurry.<p>

"Wanting to remember is the worst," Newt says, his words breaking my thoughts. I look up to see the boy, his dirty blonde hair reflecting like spools of gold in the sunlight. He stands tall, towering over my little body that is huddled close to a tree. In his right hand are a bowl and a crudely made wooden spoon. Newt sits next to me, showing off a bowl of carefully diced fruits that looks too nice to have been made here in the Glade. "Here; Frypan made this special for you. He figured maybe you could use a bit more to eat than the rest of us."

I stare at it, almost afraid to take it. "I'll bloody feed you myself," Newt warns. "Stop thinking for a shucking second and eat something." I take the bowl from Newt, yanking the spoon away too. The boy chuckles, his warm brown eyes watching every movement, making sure that I eat every piece of fruit in the bowl. I taste a mix of apples, peaches, and pears- maybe plumbs? I chew slowly per Newt's orders, taking in each bite, rolling my eyes at each snarky comment he makes about me eating.

I swallow down a chuck of apple. "No answer." I take a bit off of the spoon once more, looking over at Newt with curious eyes. I want answers and I want them now. If I'm stuck here with a bunch of males in a strange place I want to know as much as I possibly can know. "Never told." I'd have to ask if speech loss was common because Alby never made that clear. He said that "we'd work on it."

Newt cocks an eyebrow at me, plucking an apple chunk from my bowl. "What do you want to know, Greenie?" He pops the piece of fruit into his mouth, chewing and swallowing. "I'm all ears." He watches me curiously, his brown eyes bright. I dwell on his Glader slang for a few moments, chiding myself that I could ask that question later because obviously other things were more important.

"Last night… Heard things. Loud…awful sounds." I shake my head, remembering the shrill shrieks from the Maze that haunted my sleep besides the dream of the boy. I couldn't comprehend the animalistic shrieks neither could I think of what they could ever be. "Things in the Maze…."

Newt nods. "Those things you heard last night- those were Grievers. Ignore the shucking things. You'll learn how to tune them out with time." His brown eyes turn somber yet serious. His eyes bore into mine, dark brown boring into sky blue. "Lizzie, you swear me something right now." He leans forwards, taking one of my bandaged hands in his. He holds it lightly, as if my arm would shatter at his touch. "Swear to me you'll never step foot into that Maze. Swear to me you'll never leave the Glade. Out there you'll get killed faster than you can blink your eyes. If you're out there when those walls close nobody will be able to get to you." The ferocity in his eyes is alarming…the way he cares is odd. "Nobody here knows what a Griever looks like- those who have…the Griever was the last sight they saw. I don't want you being one of them."

I smile grimly. "I swear." We hold one another's gaze for a few moments until he chuckles, and then directs me to finish eating the snack that was prepared for me. I comply, asking questions between bites or I ask around the mouthful of fruit I still chew. I quiz him about the Glader slang which I had some fun with… I had Newt blushing which didn't seem likely from saying "Shuck," or mumbling about how Gally was a "Slinthead." He laughed over the derogatory name I called Gally and wasn't so much as embarrassed teaching it to me as he was shuck. I follow to ask him about the Glade and Newt pointed out each individual place.

I learned that the main stretch of the Glade was the "Homestead." It is where they live and learn and thrive. It's the place where I slept under last night in the hammock he and Chuck had made for me. On from that are the bathrooms and showers that I have yet to use. A distance away is a small shack he calls the Blood House, several pins of animals next to it- chickens, pigs, a cage of rabbits, and sheep and lambs.

"I wouldn't want to work there," Newt says. He looks down at me, a smile still tugging at his lips. "Those who work there tend to be shucking creepy. Do you want to be considered creepy?" All I do is punch him squarely in the shoulder, earning a scowl and then a laugh from Newt. "But no, Blood House is out of the question. I couldn't put you through that." He then continues talking about the Gardens and the people assigned to that task, then the Glade's two Med-Jaks. He then talks about Frypan and his occupation as cook of the Glade- he said that maybe if I showed some promise I could be in the cooking field of jobs. He then talked of the Sloppers whose jobs were most despised- they cleaned the bathrooms and showers; they cleaned the Blood House after the slaughter- just odd jobs nobody wants to do. Along came the Baggers who collected the dead bodies which were seldom.

What fascinates me, though, are the Runners. Even from our spot in the trees and as far back as we were I could hear them calling to one another loudly as if it were a joke or they were just getting lost in the Maze. Newt frowns when my eyes sparkle at the word Runner. "No, Lizzie- never. I wouldn't ever allow you out in that Maze."

"Why?" I ask stubbornly.

Next shakes his head. "You're too fragile, Lizzie- too innocent. I understand very well that bad things don't happen during the day. The Grievers are gone, but it takes just one second for those walls to begin closing in on you. You're locked in there for the night and you won't get out. You'll never come back…" He falls silent, taking my empty bowl from me. "Go on and get a feel for the Glade. Stay somewhere close where Alby or myself can see you. I couldn't bear it if some shuck-face came and made his way with you." With that he stands, tousling my hair before returning the bowl back to Frypan. When he disappears around a cluster of trees I stand, dusting the dirt off of my pants and begin the steady walk towards the Homestead. The buildings are constructed of sturdy wood, twined together by strips of rope and vines. They're beginning to decay, needing serious repairs. Nonetheless they're quite the works of art.

From behind I hear a steady voice. "Admiring my handy skills, Greenie?"

I swirl around, seeing a boy with light brown hair cut incredibly short. I'm not sure how to say how else he looks, but I can say he looks kind of apologetic. That person is Gally. "More…maybe less." I smile at how normal I managed to sound without embarrassing myself to death. "My name…not Greenie."

Gally cocks his eyebrow. "What, then?"

"Lizzie," I say- almost shyly.

"It's a nice name," Gally says. He walks forwards, kicking up dirt and rocks, looking to the ground. "Lizzie, I'm sorry for being such a Slinthead earlier. Kind of a shuck move on my part, eh?" Awkward silence pursues us and Gally coughs, trying to break the ice. "The guys can't slim up about you, ya' know?"

I chuckle. "Figures."

"Sorry about yesterday… I hate people getting the better of me," Gally says. I study his face closely and I see a purple bruise on his cheek. "Let's…start over?" He holds his hand out to me, asking for me to shake it. "My name is Gally. I'm the Keeper of the Builders."

I give him a shy smile. "I'm Lizzie…" When I place my hand in his it is warm and feels rough and calloused from building since being here in the Maze.

Gally nods his head to the side. I see that he was gesturing to- a tall thing winding around a tree with winding steps that stops at a platform on the top with vines and pieces of wood used for railings. It sits above where we all sleep. "Wanna come with me?"

I hesitate, thinking of Newt telling me to stay here close to the Homestead. I guess Gally must have caught my apprehension and he grins. "You're going to be up there." He points to the giant platform. "Newt or anybody else won't be able to miss you." He takes my hand in his, nodding excitedly. "C'mon, these shucks won't touch you, if that's what you're scared of."

I narrow in my eyes on him. "'Course not!"

"Or are you scared of me, Lizzie?" Gally asks.

That made me laugh. Gally smiles, taking it all good naturedly which is strange from the way I've heard the boys talk. "Slim it, Greenbean. C'mon, let's go!" Then I run side by side with him to the giant platform, frowning when I hear boys whistle. Gally spits out his Glader-cussing slang at them and as I run, my face turns a bright red. Together we race up the steps, going higher and higher until Gally stops at a tiny door and unlatches it, pushing it open to reveal the platform that was carefully made of sturdy wood. My best bet- my only bet- is that he and his group had built this. Was this their attempt at seeing over the Maze's walls? To see the end of their hell?

"Beautiful," I say quietly.

Gally looks back at me, his dark eyes confused. "What's so beautiful about this? We built this to find a way out…never worked. Piece of klunk…" He kicks the base of the tree, looking defeated.

I roll my eyes, nodding my head towards the Glade. From here you could see the trees, their tops golden. The view was breath taking in a sense I could never explain. I sit down at the edge of the platform, sliding my legs beneath the wooden railing and lean against the sturdy wood. Gally, bewildered, joins me. We sit in silence before he looks over at me, a smirk on his face.

"I could help you talk better," Gally says. "You wouldn't have to use those fragmented sentences all the time."

I cock my brow. "How?"

Gally chuckles wildly. "Simply repeat after me."

…

We were howling halfway through Gally's "vocabulary lesson." I didn't know Gally could ever laugh this hard but it was rather cute and endearing. His face glowed red with only what I could think as happiness.

"Come on, Lizzie! Say it! You can say it!" Gally says, pressuring me and encouraging me all the same.

I couldn't bring myself to say this line of perverse slur. Well…most of it had been that, but it was by far the worst so far. For the last hour we had been giggling, Newt's words forgotten in my thoughts as I giggled along with Gally, repeating his sentences and letting my clumsy tongue make out sentences and words I thought I'd never say. Never have I sounded so normal before… I suppose this is what I maybe sounded like before being put here in the Glade.

I shake my head, coughing because the laugh had taken all of the air from me. "No- can't. I can't say it!" I open my mouth to say something else when the door to the platform busts open, Newt's head popping up and he doesn't look happy in anyway.

"I thought I told you to stay put in the Homestead," Newt says. "You scared the shuck out of me!"

I stifle a laugh. "Went with Gally… Been teaching me to talk."

Newt's face softens at that…that Gally has been working with me on my speech. Newt walks over quietly, sitting next to me in a cross-legged position. He smiles widely, placing his finger beneath my chin. "I've never seen anybody's eyes sparkle like that before…" Newt peeks around me, nodding at Gally. "Good that, Gally. You've done right by someone."

Gally smiles in triumph. "All in a day's work." He leans back against the platform, sighing in happiness. I snicker, pushing myself into a standing position. I prod Gally with the toe of my boot, the boy giving me a look that dissolves into laughter. "We'll work on this later." Newt and I make our way off the platform, Gally still laying there, staring up at the noon sky in the cover of a tree. I see Newt's dark eyes meet mine and he gives a sort of smile.

"What exactly did Gally teach you?" Newt asks.

I cough to keep back a laugh. "Nothing good…not in any way."

Newt shakes his head, dismissing my silliness. All the while he has a wild smile on his face, leading me down the stairs and off to the Gardens where we had began our day, the two of us chattering as well as two people could in the event one could barely talk at all.

…

"That's Minho," Newt says, pointing at the boy running out of the Maze. He has dark hair and almond shaped eyes and a lean body fit for running. Followed by Minho is a boy- a tall fellow with blonde hair and big blue eyes. "That's Ben." He continues listing off names of three more boys as I carefully pick tomatoes with my bandaged hands, dropping them into the basket.

I nod towards them. "They're the Runners?"

Newt nods. "You guessed right."

I watch quietly, dropping another vegetable into the basket. Minho's dark eyes lock with mine and something sparks.

_Subject 0576 was printed neatly on a chart, paper held together on a clipboard. _

_Somebody was next to me- a woman with blonde hair and big blue eyes, dressed in stark white. She watched at the line of tanks- boys all there, pounding their fists against the glass, screaming in terror, bubbles escaping their mouths as they clawed for air. In front of me was a tan;, a boy with matted air and dark eyes, beat against the tank, his nails bleeding as they raked against the glass, the water turning red with blood._

"_**Lizzie?"**_

Before me I see Newt, his eyes wide with terror. He snaps his fingers, struggling to call my attention. "Lizzie? Liz, what's the matter?" He reaches out a tentative hand, touching my cheek. I jerk away from him, processing what I seen. Why was he there? Why was Minho in that tank? Why did that stupid woman stand there and watched as he suffocated?! "Lizzie, breathe. You're not breathing."

Why did I watch, too? Why did I stand there why he was struggling? Why didn't I help him?

I look over at Newt, taking in a shaky breath. I open my mouth to speak, trying to form words but they come out a jumbled mess and I turn away on my heel, scattering off wildly towards the trees, ignoring Newt's screams of protest. The images never ended- Minho screaming; his tank filling with blood. I saw Minho's eyes…he looked at me with hatred as he struggled to fight his way out. Why me?! Why do these images haunt me?

"Lizzie!" a chorus of boys calls.

I cover my ears, trying to block out the screams that ring like thousands of little bells. The screams of boy wrack my head, making me imagine the expansive test subjects there in the tanks. All of them…terrified- terrified of the blue eyed demon next to me; looking at me as though I was the heart of all evil. Around me comes a strong pair of arms, stopping me in my mad dash. My arms are bound, a warm mouth near my ear, whispering little nothings to soothe me in which it did barely nothing at all to calm me at all.

I recognize Newt's voice above all the confusion. He holds me in the circle of his arms, holding me in his lap close to his body. As I lay against his body I cry, body wracking sobs escaping my mouth. He doesn't question me- never. Not in any way. All he simply does is hold me close, rocking me back and forth, using his thumb to dry away the tears streaking down my face.

During the time I'm in his arms I long for someone. Not Newt- not anybody I know here in the Maze. I think that the person may be the boy with the brown hair and the milk chocolate eyes- Thomas.


	3. Visions

**FinalFantasyCrazedGirl: Glad you like it! This story is a mix of both the movie and the book so far. Hope you enjoy the rest of the story!**

**cinnamonstarbarks: I feel privileged that this is your favorite story! I try to make Lizzie feel as real as possible- it's all about making the character sound convincing, really. I try to have her react with the other Gladers positively- although stakes will be risen here in the following chapters that may or may not break our characters. Keep reading and I hope you enjoy!**

**Guest: Well...it wasn't every thirty minutes- how about two days later? I hope you enjoy!**

**GwenLjung21: Glad you enjoyed the last chapter! I really liked writing the last chapter and this chapter I enjoyed writing, too. Writing the flashbacks are my favorite parts by far! Keep reading and I hope you review!**

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><p>"She's shocked- nothing more. Exhaustion and a tad of overwhelming plays role in this," one of the MedJacks says. "She's only been here a day and a half, Newt. We've seen Greenies worse than her, though." He talks about a boy named Henry who I take is now deceased who supposedly slipped into unconsciousness after his first day of being here. "Let's keep her here for the rest of the day and throughout the night…maybe the next few days if necessary."<p>

_Yeah, it's shock alright. _I look over to the MedJack- I didn't know his name. I don't want to learn his name. I don't want to learn a thing about him. It's painful enough when I look at each of their faces because I fear that I'll remember something that happened to them- something I believe that I did… What am I? Am I evil?

_Subject 0576 screamed in terror- such a loud scream that it pierced my ears._

I rock my head deeper into Newt's chest, trying to block out this screech.

_Blood poured off of the operating table. I could hear the sickly soft and wet sound of a scalpel slicing through skin…. A single body on the cold table withered- convulsing. It seized, muscles and all twisting and straining. A team of men came in and put the boy- Subject 0576 or "Minho"- under restraints as his body strained and fell limp minutes after._

I want to rid my mind of the images. They come each with a frightening intensity that makes me hate myself more and more. It makes me question who I am- who I was before coming to the Glade. I want to scream- I want to curse whoever did this to me…who made me who I was- who I am. Why me? Of all people, why do these images haunt me? Was I a bad person before all of this? But, if I was, why do I remember Thomas? He looks like a kindred spirit...

"Lizzie?" Newt asks.

I'm afraid to look up at him. If I do, I'm afraid I'll see him in the vicious visions. Did I hurt Newt? What about Alby? What about Chuck and Gally? What if I hurt Thomas, too? "Am I a bad person, Newt?" I ask. I sound weak and desperate.

Newt hooks two fingers beneath my chin, having me look up at him. I try to avoid his eyes but they capture mine easily, holding my gaze onto him. In his eyes I see many levels of fear and worry. I also see happiness from his time here at the Glade in bits and pieces. I wonder if one shred of happiness is having me here. His eyes are a warm brown color- like the color of the earth when the soil has been tilled. "In all of my days here I've never seen anybody as kind as you. What makes you think you were bad, Liz?"

I shake my head. "Just a thought, is all."

Newt shakes his head. I feel his breath on the back of my neck, warming my chilled skin. "You're not a bad person. Before this life I'm positive that you weren't any amount of evil, then, either." I feel his warm lips against my forehead and he about damn near takes my breath away. "Why don't you sleep? I'll be here when you wake up, Lizzie."

I'm not tired- I'm too riled up because of the thoughts that shoot through my head. But I do enjoy Newt's constant company. He sits with me in his lap, arms circled around me, his fingers dancing across my back that crescendos into feelings of calmness. Often times he'll speak, asking little questions to stave my boredom that I answer back. We fade into silence and Newt would hold me close, his arms wrapped around me beneath the thick blanket that warms my chilled body. I would listen to the boys outside- I'd hear Gally and Chuck firing questions at the MedJacks and Alby. The two MedJacks reassured everybody that I'd be fine and Alby would direct them back to work. When I hear Minho's voice in the mix I tense, hiding away in Newt. He does a simple action that brings back a flood of memories- he nuzzles my cheek with his, bringing back the familiar feeling of safety that I once felt from a boy- from Thomas.

"_We lost another one today," I say bitterly. I throw my coat over the back of the sofa, looking over at Thomas who sits on the counter of our shared kitchen. His dark eyes look at me throat thick lashes, his face distressed and pained. I've never seen him look so defeated. "It was a girl- her name was Jocelyn. I told them she wasn't ready for the Swipe. She was too young, but they wanted to place her in as a variable to the Gladers."_

_Thomas shakes his head. "You know that they're not going to agree with us."_

_I shake my head. "They'll begin to care when each of their test subject die! The girls- they barely ever make it out of the Swipe, Heaven knows why! They're getting careless- wasting their lives away as though they mean nothing. These children who so valiantly gave themselves to us to find cures for their families…they're being wasted away at WICKED's own sick kicks."_

"_Maybe they're trying to hurry to see if…" Thomas trails off, holding his head in his hands._

"_What, Thomas, what?! They're wasting their lives! We're down to ten children!" I scream. "If they don't stop we'll never find the Cure! We'll never save our families! The Flare will destroy __**everything**__." I'm not lying and Thomas knows I'm right. We'll lose everything we worked for. I feel sobs shake my body and I begin to cry, leaning my head against the wall."Remind me why I fight, Thomas. Remind me why I stay here every day to find something that seems like we'll never discover?"_

_Thomas looks over at me, tears streaking down his cheeks. "Lizzie, stop it."_

"_Why, do you not want to hear it? This is the ugly truth! This is our sick reality," I sneer._

"_Elizabeth,__** STOP IT**__!" Thomas screams. His face is red with anger, teeth gritted irritation. He's never called me Elizabeth since we've been together. Yes, when we first met, he called me Elizabeth to get on my nerves or just out of formality. He's never called me Elizabeth, only Lizzie. He's never screamed at me. For the first time he's gotten irritated with me…_

_I stare at Thomas, unable to speak. I just stare at him through my blurry vision, the sobs still shaking my body, making something that sounds like ripping sounds. Thomas walks over to me calmly, cupping my face in his hands. "The reason you fight is because you're trying to save your family and me. The reason I fight is for you, Elizabeth. We're bound here by similar reasons and believe me: we're going to find that reason. We will find this Cure."_

_I stare up at him and he smiles gently, his anger forgotten. I feel his lips meet mine in a kiss- something so soft and so sweet. I can still taste the saltiness of his tears on his lips. Thomas pulls back, drying the relentless tears that streak down my cheeks. I sniffle, look down at the floor. "I'm sorry, Thomas. I was frustrated and…"_

"_I sorry, too, Lizzie. I shouldn't have screamed at you like that," Thomas says. He leans in once more, pecking me softly on the lips. He pulls me tightly to him and I hide my face in the crook of his neck, closing my eyes tightly, hoping that I'd wake up and this all would be a terrible nightmare. I feel the heart of Thomas' skin on mine, his cheek nuzzling mine. _

When I come back into reality I feel tears streaming freely down my face. I look around, noting nothing has changed. Newt is still here, but he has dosed off into sleep, arms still locked around me. I rub at my eyes, trembling as I lie still in Newt's arms. No, I don't want Newt. I don't want any of these people here at the Glade. I want one person and that person alone- I want Thomas. But the thing is that I don't know whether he's even alive or not…or if that Box will ever bring him up.

…

"We had a Gathering while you were sleeping," Gally says. He sits propped in a chair, munching on an apple happily.

I cock my brow at him, sipping at a cup of water I've been forced to drink by none other than an overprotective Newt. He left a while ago to tend to something but he warned the pitcher of water left on my nightstand had better been drunk before he got back. I'm down to about three cups left. "Yes…and…"

Gally chuckles. "It was about you." He swallows a second bite of his apple, looking over at me. "We needed to state some simple ground rules."

"Simple ground rules?" I ask quizzically.

"There are a few shucks here that uhh…want to shuck with you," Gally says, his face glowing bright red. It takes me a few seconds to understand and along with Gally, I blush as red as the red apples that are ready to harvest in the Gardens. "The punishment for anybody here that dares harm you will be banished to the Maze immediately."

I stare at Gally curiously before grinning lightly. "Good to know." I pour myself another glass of water, drinking it in a bitter manner. "So, anything interesting?" I watch Gally smirk and he begins speaking. I listen at him describe the boys who have been staring at me like I was the last living thing that they had to have. Somewhere in his detailed conversation I feel something hit me squarely in the forehead and drop into my lap. Stunned by the whizzing object I pick the item up and observe it. It's a tiny charm carved of wood- a star. As I stare down at it I remember things odd things. I remember a tall man with strawberry blonde hair wearing a strange little hat, lighting candles on a golden candle-holder. Then, a woman with big blue eyes is bowed, muttering what sounds like a prayer of sorts.

I look up, pulled out of my daze. I see a boy with curly hair standing in the doorway, smiling like a fiend. Chuck. "You little klunk." I narrow in my eyes on him, laughing at his expression. "It's beautiful, Chuckle." I look over it, now noticing that it has a tiny hole dug through the top, a thin piece of leather serving as a chain. I place it around my neck, feeling it rest in the hollow of my throat. My eyes flicker to Gally and I see that wheels are turning in his head. "If you think you and the rest of these guys are going to bombard me with gifts, you're definitely wrong."

Gally shrugs. "We'll see about that after I find the best klunking flower patch in the Glade." With that he smiles goofily, stalking out of the small building. My eyes flicker to Chuck and he shrugs. "Wanna come in, Chuck?"

The curly haired boy comes in and I coot over in the bed, allowing him room to sit. Chuck climbs in, settling himself next to me. I look down at the necklace he made me, trying to find words to say. Instead Chuck finds them first. "Liz, why do you think we don't remember anything?"

I frown. "I don't know. I've been trying to figure that out since I got here- thinking…coming up with theories." I put a convincing tone to my voice. I remember so much and I'm afraid to tell these boys. Would they hate me? Would they be jealous? What if I was dangerous to them? Would I be killed if I ever admitted to what I see in my head when I sleep and when I am awake?

Chuck frowns. "Do you think I had parents?"

"You _have _parents, Chuckle," I say. "Nobody wouldn't ever abandon you."

Chuck looks up at me, a gentle smile on the boy's face. I smile back, ruffling his mess of curls. We both laugh quietly; talking amongst one another, telling jokes and talking about what our lives could have been before here. Chuck makes a guess that he had parents and brothers and sisters; I assure him he does. I guess I have parents and siblings just as him. I tell Chuck I bet he looks like his father…whoever the hell he is. It seems to comfort Chuck and it makes me feel better to see the little boy smile. I know surely he doesn't do it often.

In the middle of our conversation I hear Newt's voice. His eyes are bright and he has a smile on his face. His eyes- so bright and happy- they remind me so strongly of him…of Thomas.

_I'm knocked down to the floor abruptly. I look up to see my attacker and there he is, Thomas. His eyes twinkle with love and admiration- with happiness. His fingers curl in with mine, a bright smile on his face. His heart races in his chest, thumping like crazy. He's out of breath, signaling he must have sprinted here to our shared home. _

"_What are you so happy about?" I ask. I untangle our fingers, reaching up to touch his face. _

_He presses a kiss to the palm of my hand, the smile never leaving. He intertwines my left hand in his own. "I don't think I've ever loved you more than I do right now, Lizzie." Thomas, still beaming, captures my lips with his. I feel him smiling against my lips and when I pull back, his eyes shine bright. "You've done it, Lizzie!"_

_I stare up at him, confused. "What have I done?"_

"_You've began to find the Cure. The. Cure!" His voice rings loudly through the room, his attitude resembling that of an excited child. "We can save our families. We can save everyone." Then his lips crash into mine again, the color of sparkling brown still in my thoughts as we lock each other in a tight embrace._

I'm drawn out of my trance, still fuzzy from the daydream or the vision- whatever it is. Newt is calling me, the smile having faded, but he's happy. So shucking happy. "Lizzie? What are you smiling about?" I shake my head, lying against the pillows, remembering the happy scene. I can still feel the warmth of his lips and the intensity of his eyes and smile in my thoughts.

But something makes me think: _How do you know if he's still alive? How do you know he's going to come? _All I can do is hope. I seem to have a lot of it, too. Hope- hope that Thomas comes. Hope that he's still out there. Hope he still remembers me…


	4. He's the Silence

**toridw317: Thanks! There are mentions of a Thomas/Lizzie memory here in the chapter- actually more than one that begins here in the first part. Enjoy the rest of the story! **

**cinnamonstarbarks: I'm glad that you're excited for this chapter! You should be **** Keep reading and enjoy! Review, please, and tell me if there's anything I can do to make this better for you!**

**FinalFantasyCrazedGirl01: I'll have your ideas in the next chapter! I most definitely will. Thanks for reviewing and enjoy this chapter! Review and let me know if you'd like to see anything!**

**LovelyBlue99: Thank you so much! Hope you keep reading!**

**GwenLjung21: The flashbacks are by far my favorite parts. I try to convey something in them- something that means a lot to Lizzie. It's like a step closer for her, I suppose- to have a hope. I hope you keep reading and keep dreaming on what their reunion will be like! I've already started work on it!**

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><p>The nightmares came last night in a repetitive cycle of horror and agony. The most sleep I had was about an hour in which the gruesome dreams stopped. That hour of silence would not ever prepare me for what would follow. I dreamt of a woman- her name I do not recall- whom stood by and watch a young girl twitch and scream in a withering agony on a table. The girl's face was blurry- so bad I couldn't make out who she was. I dreamt of Chuck; the sweet little boy lay on a steel table, staring blankly up at the ceiling with lifeless eyes as if waiting to be granted permission to come to life. I saw Newt convulsing on a table as he screeched, men and women in white coats poking him with silver tools that sent shocks through his body and left marks on his arms and legs, somebody in the back slowly turning up the electricity with a dial. The most terrifying was seeing Thomas' arms and legs being pinned down to a table by bulky men. He thrashed and screamed- he screamed for me to save him- as they put a mask over his face. His feeble attempts died as he gave way to whatever they administered to him. Then, I heard the same sound of a scalpel cutting into his head, pouring his precious blood as they installed something into him. Before I saw I woke up screaming.<p>

Newt had heard me. He came running in like some kind of savior, clutching my tiny body to his. Next in was Gally, then Chuck- followed by Alby, Minho, and the MedJacks. There was a cluster of boys outside who demanded instance but was denied access. I felt helpless as I lay in the crook of Newt's arm, refusing to look at any of them. I was afraid I'd see them again. I wished so badly that Thomas would show up- that he'd magically come running in through the Maze or shoot up in the Box. Something told me he'd sooth the visions and nightmares.

Now I lay in the darkness of the Glade's make-shirt hospital. Down the hall are Clint and Jeff, sleeping. Gally and Chuck are downstairs neighboring rooms. Minho is just outside my door, curled up in a sleeping bag, Alby beside him. Then Newt lays in the bed beside mine, his brown eyes trained on me. In the dim light provided by candled and a roaring fire outside tended to by one of the boys I can see Newt enough to note his tanned skin and his dirty blonde hair that seemed to illuminate in the light. He hasn't spoken much since earlier tonight and I'm glad for it. Had I spoken I would have burst into bitter tears because of the things I had seen.

"Lizzie?" Newt's voice had a great amount of concern in it.

I shake my head, bringing my set of three blankets closer to my chilled body. "O-Okay." I've taken notice that when I'm upset I fall back into my uncontrolled stutter and my fragmented sentences like I was a terrified child. I know for a damn fact that I could speak better- I can almost speak full sentences if I try hard enough.

I feel the warmth of Newt's hand on my shoulder. Our beds were so close I could feel the warm exhale of his breath. "You don't sound okay. Tell me what the klunk is going on."

I shake my head. "Nothing…it…nothing." I feel my lower lip tremble and tears sting at my eyes because I've deteriorated so quickly. "Stop it." I blink my eyes a few times to rid myself of the tears but my voice gives me away completely.

"How do you expect me to help you? I can't tell when I don't know what's happening, Liz," Newt says. "I'm here to bloody help you. There's nothing that you'd say to make me think differently of you." I feel the reassuring warmth of his hand on my cheek and I see his smile. Everything fades into a look of desperation. He was begging me to tell him…

I advert my gaze from him for a moment. "I…'member."

Newt gives me a look. "You remember? Lizzie, do you mean you _remember_?" I nod shakily, watching the expression change on Newt's face. It switches from a look of horror, anger, to confusion, then to a gentle expression. "Is that what's bothering you, Lizzie?"

"Yeah," I say quietly.

"What have you been seeing, then?" Newt asks.

They swarm me one by one- the memories I've seen. Newt being electrocuted, Chuck's lifeless body, Thomas' struggling form, Minho's fingernails tearing off and filling the tanks with blood- watching him scream and losing hair, slowly suffocating as he drown in the water. I open my mouth to speak, stumbling over my letters and words, unable to find what to say. "Horrifying…" I look at him closely, looking at his skin. There, slightly on his collar bone, is a scar. There's one on his left side, too, following by a line of them on his arms in random places. The scars were so faint but I could see them. "I saw you…" Silence falls between us until I break it, voice cracking under the pressure of his wide eyes. "Don't hate me, Newt-I…"

Newt shushes me. "I couldn't ever be mad at you." I smile gently at him, noting wanting to speak another word. Newt smiles back and his props himself up on an elbow. His lips touch my forehead, lingering there for a spell. "Try and get some bloody sleep." When he pulls back I grab him, the absence of warmth scaring me. Newt looks down at me, studying over my expression. "What's the matter, Lizzie?"

"Don't leave me…" There's nothing more frightening than being alone in the dark.

Newt stares down at me, his eyes thoughtful. Then he settles in his bed, intertwining our fingers. Having the human contact sooths me and as I doze off into sleep, I remember another memory as though my mind is rewarding itself after going through the hell I've suffered all throughout the night.

_It was like this every night- the unnerving nightmares and the unwelcoming darkness. The only thing was that tonight they were particularly unbearable. It was simply just me, by myself, unable to go to sleep. Every single night I saw the same images in my mind- men and women of the outside world. Weeks ago, when I first joined here in order to potentially help my family, a woman whose name I believe may be Ava, showed me the outside world. It was the first time I had seen it seen I was a child- I remember grassy green fields and play grounds. Then I remember being put into isolation with my family who was reconsidering being here with WICKED. I remember a woman- her eyes were so red and her skin was pock-marked with sores. Her skin was veiny and blood dribbled down her lips. I saw a man, too. Outside they banged on the windows, screaming like maniacs. They looked out of their minds- if they had one at all. They looked hungry- like they were starving. They barred their rotten teeth and clawed with their overgrown nails at the windows, leaving giant marks down the windows._

"_Elizabeth, what the hell?" In my room is a boy- Thomas. He's my roommate here at the WICKED compound. He's tired- his bed head and the bags beneath his eyes say so. He's had a day in the lab with the scientists, I bet._

_I look up at him. It's not that I don't like Thomas- he's good company after a rather annoying day at work. But nonetheless he can be a total jerk and a jackass sometimes. "Sorry, Thomas. I had another nightmare." He was usually pretty good about my nightmares. He would mutter I was fine, get me a cup of water, wish me goodnight, and go back to bed. I'd still wake up in a panic, though. Neither of us slept well after that._

_Thomas looks at me with soft brown eyes. "Wait a minute. I be back." He sleepy teen walks down the hall into our shared kitchen. Sure enough he comes back with something to drink a short time later but it isn't water. It's a steaming mug held carefully in his hands. The shirtless boy sits on the edge of my bed, offering the white mug to me with a crooked smile. "I've heard that if you talk about your nightmares it helps."_

_I open my mouth to speak but he shakes his head. "No- drink your tea first. Maybe it'll sooth your ass tonight."_

_I glare at him and I suppose it is laughter-inducing. But I comply with him, taking in a drink of the stuff. It's neither the scalding hot stuff I drink with Ava when talking over formal business nor the iced tea that we're provided with while it is so humid. It's warm and has a sweet taste to it that takes the edge off of my panic. "Good dog! Now you may speak."_

_I cough. "For one, that was a smartass remark." I sip at my drink again and Thomas nods in approval. "Two, the nightmares are worse. They just keep getting worse and worse."_

_Thomas sits cross-legged on the bed, looking over at me. "What's bothering you so badly it disrupts our sleep?"_

_I shake my head. "The Infected… I was chatting with Miss Ava about it. She showed me the outside world… I saw these two people beating and banging on the windows, looking hungered, like they'd eat us or something. I was so scared and…and…" I trail off, becoming more and more upset. When I become upset my sentences become fragmented and if I don't compose myself, I talk like that for a long time. Thomas knew that all too well. He called me "Stutter" forever after the incident._

"_Elizabeth, it's okay," Thomas says reassuringly. "They're out there, we're here. We're finding a Cure. The Cure." He smiles warmly, brown eyes sparkling. "Don't be so discouraged."_

_I nod. Thomas chuckles, taking my near empty glass from me and stalks out of my room. Moments later he returns to see me off. As he nears the light switch I fear the dreaded darkness that will follow after he flicks it off. When he turns the light out, I hear his voice. "Good night, Elizabeth." Just as he begins to walk away I call him, afraid of the dark. Afraid of the loneliness it brings._

"_Thomas!"_

_I see his silhouette in the darkness. "Yes, Elizabeth?"_

"_Stay with me. I-I-I don't want to be alone." I feel tears streaking down my face, trying to tuck myself away from the embarrassment of maybe making him mad or something of that sort. But I don't hear his usual scowl- instead I feel the bed sink with extra weight and I feel the warmth of arms circling around me. _

_Thomas holds me close to his body, arms wrapped around my tiny waist. "It's okay, Elizabeth. Go on to sleep. I'll be here all night long- I promise." By some odd instinct I shift in his arms, snuggling into his chest. I feel his lips on my forehead, smoothing my hair back. "Goodnight, Elizabeth."_

"_Night, Thomas," I say quietly. Then, with that, I fall into sleep where nightmares do not haunt me. It's like Thomas is the antidote to all my fears. He scares the bad dreams away, holding me tightly in his arms like he promised me._

…

"Newt, tell them I'm fine! Don't wanna stay here! It's depressing!"

The boys laugh. Mutters of, "She's definitely okay," are thrown back and forth across the room as I argue hatefully with Jeff and Clint that I'm well enough to go back out into the Gardens to work with Zart. Newt was there, watching with an amused expression as I fired derogatory comments to the two boys.

Clint glares at me. "She's still weak. I want to be a hundred percent sure she's not dehydrated and see that she's resting. Liz isn't going to get shucking anywhere if she's not well. So stop your klunk, get into bed, and rest."

I roll my eyes. "But I'm fine! Sure as shuck arguing with you, am I not?" I listen to my own words, realizing how quickly I picked up on their Glader slang. "So, therefore, let me out! This is _annoying _beyond epic proportions."

Jeff and Clint look at one another, clear annoyed with my spastic argumentative behavior. In their eyes I could see they disagreed with my argument on several levels, but I see a healthy compromise they've agreed on. "Stay here until sundown. We'll release you then. You just play by our rules until then. We have a shucking agreement?"

I nod in realization of our happy compromise. "Good that."

Jeff ruffles my hair gently. "Great. Just sit here and rest. You're not missing anything today, Greenie. I'll send Clint by later with lunch. Worry about sleeping some more." Then, with a glare, he runs the rest of the boys off. "You can see her later. Back to work, shucks."

They boys disperse, leaving me with the MedJacks. Gally, Newt, and Chuck stay behind, though. They stay propped in chairs, the four of us creating chit-chat. We talked about daily tasks and cracked jokes. It was like we were almost normal. We chatted over our lunch which was sent to us happily by Frypan- mine special, of course. Then after the million cups of water I was forced to drink by Clint and Jeff and the several bathroom breaks, we faded into silence and Gally was the first to fall asleep. Followed by that was Chuck, then Newt. Then, out of boredom, I too dozed off into restless sleep. Sometime later I was woken by the persistent calls of Newt. I raised up, the daylights scared out of me. Newt mumbled apologies and he looked at me sternly like I was a child who never obeyed.

"Stay here," Newt says. His eyes are serious. "The Box came up and let me tell you that it's not supposed to. We don't know what we're dealing with and I'll be damned if you're harmed. Do not let me catch you running out of this room until one of the boys gets you. Do you understand, Lizzie?"

I stare at him, curious about the Box. But I nod reluctantly. "Good that, Newt."

Newt smiles grimly. "Stay here." With that he disappears, scattering out of the building and runs like hell off to the Box. Beyond curious, I swing my feet off the side of my bed, scattering to the open window to see the action. I have a clear view of where the boys gather. I can hear their voices above the sound of the Box. I remember being shot up in that thing here… I remember the feeling of suffocation; I remember feeling like my head would explode; I remember Alby and Gally jumping into the box. I wonder if that guy or girl is feeling the exact same way I am now.

From the center of the crowd I hear Alby's voice. He's directing his voice to Zart, Clint, and Jeff. "Do not let Lizzie out until I say so! This guy could be dangerous!"

I felt my heart pound in my chest. The person in that box….that could be him: Thomas- the answer to all my problems and fears…the solution to all my woes. But again, in the Box, could be somebody completely different. Somebody feral and dangerous. I can only hope the one who crawls out of the Box is Thomas. Not wanting to know who will come out of the Box, I settle myself on the bed, eyes closed tightly. With a loud bang the Box stops, the doors opening to reveal the steel cage. I know how it all works. Then, I hear his voice in my head- all the things I remember Thomas saying to me.

"_I love you, Lizzie."_

"_Lizzie, please don't go through with this!"_

"…_the reason I fight is for you, Elizabeth."_

"_Lizzie! No!"_

His voice is a jumbled mess in my head. I cover my ears, his voice escalating to a scream in memory of being dragged away. Then, it softens, and then it rises. Then there was nothing but silence. I think nothing. I hear nothing. The only thing I hear is the terrifying silence of the Glade waiting for its newest inhabitant. I peer outside the window, watching a figure run. He's quick on his feet, slipping and sliding. He falls to the ground, the boys screaming, "We've got a Runner!" like they had my first day here when I catapulted myself out of the Box. The boys have left the building, leaving me forgotten. I have to know who this boy is. I need to know. I scatter out of the building, my bare feet slapping against the stairs and then the ground. In a dead sprint I hear the screams from the boys warning me…but I have to see who he is.

When I reach the struggling body on the ground I see a boy with eyes the color of chocolate and dark brown hair. He's skinny and pale and has freckles in places on his pale skin. His lips are the prettiest shade of pink but the quiver in nervousness, his eyes wide with terror. Then, upon seeing me, his expression softens into something sweeter and I notice the lopsided smile that graces his face immediately. Thomas.

Tears well in his eyes. "I know you."

I shake my head. "I know you, too." Tears blind my vision and I hear him ask lightly: _"Why are you crying?"_ He rises onto his jellied legs, running to me and catches me in his arms. I fling my arms around his neck, hiding my head in his shoulder. I can't believe he's real…I can't believe this is real. Thomas laughs lightly through his tears. "This is a really shitty reunion, I know."

I roll my eyes at the familiar sense of sarcasm. I pull back, looking into the color of glittering brown. "Not the best opening lines, either." Hell…it makes me love him all the more. I run my thumb across his cheek, laughing when he intertwines our fingers, pulling me close. It was silent for a few moments until we heard a voice- the voice was Gally's.

"How do you two shucking know each other?"

I gulped. Thomas doesn't know the severity of the situation that I was in- that he's in. Only Newt knows about the memories- although Thomas isn't one of them I told. I still have the fear of them killing me- Thomas with me.


	5. Remember You

**toridw317: Thank you! The ending of the last chapter was by far my favorite. But not every chapter will be all…well… "happy." I tend to stir up some drama here and there and this chapter certainly ignites it.**

**FinalFantasyCrazedGirl01: Love your ideas! Her memories won't all come back yet- well, not the important ones, anyways. Next chapter will be more focused on the darker qualities of the story- Lizzie's memories included.**

**LovelyBlue99: I'm glad you loved it! Keep reading!**

**GwenLjung21: You've asked some excellent questions! Next chapter I'll have them all in the fine print… At the end of the chapter the drama is only beginning. Also, one of our special Gladers will think he has a relationship with Lizzie like she has with Thomas. This chapter includes quite the bit of Lizzie/Thomas fluff.**

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><p>"She remembers," Newt says aloud. Eyes thoughtful, he looks at the Gladers who are all either angry or surprised. More surprised than angry, but it scares me nonetheless."Last night she confided in me that she remembers bits and pieces of her life. Usually it's the bad stuff." He holds his hands up as offering peace to them. Newt turns once, smiling comfortingly at me. "Nightmares, truthfully. Am I right, Lizzie?" He turns to me for conformation.<p>

I nod, still holding tight to Thomas. He has me cradled tightly against his chest, chin resting on my head as he rubs my back comfortingly. I don't know what to say- what to do. I'm frozen, unable to speak to the crowd who stares at me and Thomas. "They always do." I frown at my shortening sentences that are beginning to fragment. "Screaming nightmares- memories. The only thing I ever remember well is of him." I point to Thomas. I don't dare say his name- I want him to learn it himself like I had. I want him to know who he is by figuring out himself. "Come in fragments… They're so shocking- so terrifying." I stare out between Newt and the crowd of the people who've become my family. Their faces are contorted masks of fear and confusion- I can feel the anger radiating off of the boys in waves. A very few look at me with understanding eyes- Newt, Alby, Chuck, Gally, Frypan, and Minho. But instead of acknowledging them I hide my face in Thomas' chest, tears stinging at my eyes. Thomas winds his arms tightly around my little body, pulling me close to him. I hear his voice go soft, whispering sweet nothings in my ear. His hands run up and down my back in a soothing pattering of touch, relaxing my tense muscles that have began to tremble.

I muster up the courage to look back out at the boys. Newt looks at me with a look of acceptance, his eyes gentle. He offers an encouraging smile and I give it back, still clinging tightly to Thomas. Newt's eyes that shine golden in the afternoon sunlight flicker back out to the other Gladers. I hear his soft voice give a very powerful speech on my behalf. "No matter if she remembers of if she does not, we'll bloody treat her with the same respect. I don't give two shucks if she's different from us." His eyes melt into a serious gaze. "From here, do I make myself clear?"

After a sea of nods and over fifty "yes sir's," they disperse, talking about the most popular topic: me. Newt, Thomas, Gally, and Alby remain, their eyes on me and Thomas. I could see that they were somewhat concerned because I'm in the arms of a complete stranger to them. But in Gally's eyes I could see they were riddled with jealously. I rip my gaze from them and look up at Thomas. His eyes are bright with happiness and love on so many levels. I feel his hand touch my cheek, running his thumb along the side of my face gently. "I remember you. When I was in that…that thing, I remember seeing you- hearing you." Thomas gets ahead of himself, stumbling over his own words. I laugh and laugh at him, hearing him talk making me fall more and more in love with him. "I remember hearing you laugh and…and seeing you. I remembered a girl with strawberry blonde hair and eyes like the sky. Then, I remembered a name. Elizabeth- Lizzie… You're Elizabeth."

I smile up at him, intertwining our fingers. Thomas smiles, winding his skinny arms around me and I feel him lift me up off the ground, spinning me in circles. I laugh, knotting my fingers into his hair. "Yes, I'm Lizzie…your Elizabeth. Question is- who are you?" I study his facial expression, watching it turn into a mask of confusion and wonder. I know who he is- he's Thomas. But he doesn't, and I'm not telling him. I'll allow him to make that self revelation himself.

"Then who am I, Lizzie?" Thomas asks.

I smile gently. "You'll know soon enough." I reach up on my toes, realizing how short I am compared to him. I've just reached the top of his chest so I'm guessing I'm five-four or something of that extent. Thomas, though, is at least six-something. I've got to stand on my tip toes just to kiss his cheek… I have a feeling I was picked on for being so damn short.

We carry out a conversation until I suppose the boys had enough of watching Thomas and me. Newt, Gally, Chuck, and Minho all give Thomas a look of warning…a mix of welcoming I suppose as well. Newt holds his hand out to Thomas, nodding at him. "Welcome to the Glade, Greenie." I see complete fear in their eyes, though. What was so scary about Thomas? Upon coming here I was told excessively that once a month somebody new was shipped up in the Box. I was their normal cycle- I came a month after Chuck did. Thomas came three days after I came.

That's enough to raise some suspicion amongst the boys here.

Thomas took his hand, shaking it. His other arm was still wrapped tightly around my waist. Newt's eyes say all he wants to. I can see the utmost confusion in them. I can see he doesn't trust this new "Greenie" with me in any way. "We'll have Lizzie here give you a tour of the Homestead later. She'll discuss the Rules, too. But you uphold our one Rule until then."

Thomas cocks an eyebrow. "What's that?"

"Respect the girl," Newt says simply. "If she comes to me saying that you've done something to harm her in any way, you can bloody bet that it'll be dealt with the harshest punishment."

"I'd never hurt Elizabeth," Thomas says. He obviously looks hurt as they don't view him to be a hundred percent trusted with me.

Newt smiles brightly. "Then we're on common ground." Then he spins on his heel away from me and Thomas, leaving Gally, Minho, and Alby behind with stunned expressions. Gally introduces himself to Thomas, giving a few words on Newt's behalf, and then dismisses himself. I could see that he was jealous because the way Thomas and I linked hands, holding to each other tightly. Minho introduced himself and he took it a bit better than Gally and Newt had. The slant-eyed boy then proceeded to pat Thomas back and he kissed my cheek before scrambling off.

Alby, though, was a bit smoother. "Dismiss Newt and Gally. They're protective of Lizzie and well…I wouldn't expect them to take right away to somebody who was all over the only girl in the Glade. But in any sense don't feel unwelcomed by them."

Thomas nods. "I'd tell you my name is I remembered it..." He holds his hand out to Alby and Alby shakes it, gripping his hand tightly. I heard Thomas' joints crackle and pop beneath Alby's grip and I chuckle at his shocked expression. He gives me a dirty look and I laugh loudly, Alby joining in.

"That's the kind of laughter that's contagious, Greenie," Alby says, catching his breath from the laughing spell. "Take care of our Greenbean, ya' hear?"

Thomas nods and then Alby stalks off to direct the boys on their daily jobs. My eyes flicker towards Thomas who looks down at his hand as though Alby broke it. I begin to laugh and he rolls his eyes. "Sure- a broken hand isn't serious at all."

I chuckle. "I just think you're a pansy."

"Not even together again for twenty minutes and you insult me," Thomas says, making a mocked painful expression. "I see how it is." He massages his hand and I roll my eyes at him, winding my arm around his waist and he proceeds to wind his around my shoulders.

I chuckle, leaning against him. "You're a drama queen."

"Shut up, Lizzie," Thomas says teasingly, narrowing his eyes in on me.

Then I decided that I couldn't ever love him more than I do right now.

…

"That's a bathroom?" Thomas asks.

I chuckle, pointing at the building that serves as our bathroom. Inside are three toilets enclosed by stalls, five showers, and three sinks. "Yes, sir," I say. The bathroom isn't my favorite place in any way at all. Normally I'll wait until the boys are asleep to use the facilities. If I'm desperate I'll go during the day but I'll find a way to run all the boys out who are taking showers or using the toilets. I've already had a shower incident with Zart, the Keeper of the Gardens.

Thomas pales. I could instantly see then that he is shy. Hey, who am I to blame him? I like my privacy, too. "Three toilets, five showers, and three sinks…with over fifty people… How does that work out?" His eyes flicker back at me and I shrug.

"I normally avoid the bathroom/shower craze," I reply. "Though I have an incident in the showers once or twice before…" I look at Thomas and I see his expression twist into that of…hell, I don't know what that is. I can see a sly smile and a suggestive look that conveys to me what runs through his head. I can tell that he wishes he could have a "shower incident" too. "Quit being a shuck."

Thomas cocks an eyebrow. "Is that some kind of derogatory name or what?"

I chuckle. "It is. Wait 'til you hear the rest." I wind my arms around Thomas, resting my head against his back and I feel his hands interlock with mine. I don't know what else to say to him… Maybe I say that I love him? Is it too early for me to say that? So many things I wish I could say to him and tell him are locked up behind my tongue, wanting to come out but are unable to. Maybe for now it's wise that I just simply enjoy his company…be happy that I can hold onto somebody that I have to see each night in my memories and want so badly.

"What's the matter, Lizzie?" Thomas asks. He brings me in front of him, cupping my face in his hands. "You just stopped talking all of a sudden… Is something upsetting you?" He gently pecks me on the lips, smiling a gentle smile.

I shake my head, winding my arms tightly around him. "Just thinking…"

Thomas presses a kiss against my forehead. "You tend to think a lot when you're upset." He falls silent and then he dips down, capturing my lips with his. I feel my heart begin to pound and my nerves become live wires, boiling the blood in my veins. I feel Thomas's arms force me closer to him and I wind my arms around his neck, pulling him close to me.

_We fell into routine with one another quickly. Every night Thomas came into my room with two mugs of tea and a book in the waistband of his night pants. He'd come wearing just a pair of flannel night pants and no shirt on which didn't bother me. He'd settle in bed with me and we'd drink our tea and take turns reading a page out of the book he'd bring. Sometimes it'd be a book more for people our age or he'd bring in something like The Missing Piece by Shel Silverstein or something like that. No matter we'd enjoy it immensely…even if it was a little kid's book. Then we'd talk about our days whether they'd be good or bad. We'd take one another even if we were upset and moody which I was almost every night because my days at WICKED were a pain. Then, until the wee hours of the morning, we'd talk and somehow sooth each other to sleep. We'd lie facing each other, holding hands, bodies pressed together beneath the blanket. There was a night that we were never cold. We'd wake up in each other's arms the next morning whether it is Thomas holding me or he's practically resting on top of me and we're holding hands. _

_The only thing is that the next day we'd never speak of it again and the cycle would continue. We'd never acknowledge each other until the night._

_Tonight, though, felt different. Thomas had come in and he looked upset. I would later deal with a long confession that would last into the wee hours of the morning until we fell asleep. So later at night when I had gone to my own room Thomas had come in. He carried the two steaming mugs of tea in along with the book in the waistband of his pants. In his eyes I could see a sea of raging emotion. He was battling something inside himself. Then, as he placed all of our things down on the nightstand, something clicked in his eyes. I could see what he felt, he thought it was right._

"_I'm tired of feeling like this," Thomas says._

_I look up at him, concerned. "What do you feel like, Thomas?"_

_He falls silent and then, next thing I know, I'm pushed back roughly onto the bed. Thomas straddles my body, pinning my arms above my head. I'm too shocked to move. All I see is his face hovering above mine. Thomas rocks his forehead against mine, our faces centimeters away from each other's… "I'm tired of feeling needed because I just chase the nightmares away. Every night I lay here, trying not to feel what I feel- think what I think- because I'm scared to. I'm scared you won't feel it, either, Elizabeth. I __**want **__you…. No, I don't want you…I __**need **__you. I need every inch of you- I need you to be mine." Then before I can stop him his lips are on mine, pouring emotions into me I've never felt before. I feel the desperation of wanting to love somebody; I feel the desire that he's held up so long. Thing is, though, I want him, too. I want Thomas._

_I feel Thomas' grip loosen and I draw my hand from above my head and place them on his chest. I would have pushed him away...but I can't. I allow my hands to explore his body, feeling his do the same. Every inch of skin he touches it like I'm being lit on fire. "Elizabeth," Thomas whispers against my lips. It comes out somewhere between his normal voice and a moan._

_I pull back, catching my breath. Thomas does the same, his eyes alive. "I love you, Elizabeth."_

_I chuckle, pulling him back down to me for another kiss. They're hungry and needy- like we've been deprived of something for so long. Thomas didn't need me to tell him I loved him, too. He already knows. But it doesn't stop me from saying anything at all. "I love you," I say roughly against his lips. I hear him give a throaty chuckle and he pulls back, combing his fingers gently through my hair. His eyes have dilated, a thin ring of brown left in his eyes. I see a smile on his face and then he dips down once more, pressing a sweet kiss against my lips. He then untangles himself from me, holding me tightly in his arms. Through the rest of the night as we talked he pressed kisses along my neck and I'd crane my neck to the side, capturing his lips over and over again. That night everything felt so right between us._

"_You realize we're going to be spending the night with each other a lot more, don't you?" Thomas asks. He presses a kiss to my shoulder, his eyes twinkling._

_I chuckle. "I don't mind it." He smiles at me brightly, kissing my forehead. "I love you, Thom." I run my fingers through his hair, combing it back from his forehead._

"_I love you, Lizzie," Thomas says. _

_After that I don't remember much. I remember him holding me, reading a page out of a book he picked out and I fell asleep. I woke up a few times, though, and he was still holding me tightly, my head cradled in the crook of his arms and his arm thrown across my waist. It was that night I first realized that I wouldn't ever live without him…that I'd love him forever._

When Thomas pulls back he's laughing and I stare at him like he's crazy. "I can't believe it happened like this… Our first kiss, in front of a bathroom. Kind of shitty, ain't it?"

I laugh. "You're bathroom puns are awful."

Thomas begins laughing and I roll my eyes, hiding my head in his chest. Thomas presses a kiss to the top of my head. We both laugh until we're unable to breathe, sitting in the shade of a tree. We sat together forever, cracking jokes and talking. He asks questions and I answer, watching as his plays with my fingers, kissing each individual one as he goes along the way.

As he plays and tinkers around with my hand my sleeve falls back, exposed to the cool breeze that sails through the Glade. I reach down to tug my sleeve up and Thomas stops me, his eyebrows knitting together.

"What's the matter?" I ask. I look down at my arm, allowing Thomas to further pull back my sleeve. On my arm there is a dark tattoo in carefully made letters.

**Subject 0579 "Elizabeth"**

**Property of W.I.C.K.E.D**


	6. Wicked

**GwenLjung21: There will be some hard feelings in the coming chapters. I can say to you now that Gally won't be the friendliest. Also, Lizzie's memories will become more violent. Onwards from that the next chapter will be riddled with some Thomas/Lizzie fluff. I'll try my best to include something more of the books- I'm mainly basing it off of the movie but I'm going to include more of the book as I go on- I'm doing some...ahem..."rendering" of the story to spin it on off towards more the books. Also...sorry about the Starbucks. I was reading a story and stared crying in the middle of my hometown coffee shop if that helps. Hope you enjoy the rest of the story! Let me know if you want to see anything in the upcoming chapters!**

**parardeofflights: Thanks! **

**LovelyBlue99: Ahh...the lovely reaction I knew I'd get. Her tattoo is something more than just a thing- it symbolizes a bit more.**

**Guest: I'm sorry about the whole Newt-romance thing. I intended to make this story Newt/OC in the beginning but I saw a lack of Thomas-romance centric stories and plus I couldn't exactly see Newt with this Lizzie. Thank you for sticking with the story! Keep reading.**

**FinalFantasyCrazedGirl01: I'd love to enter a scene dedicated to their..."love life," but sadly I do not have dirty mind and another fact is that I am only fifteen years old. Plus my sister lurks somewhere here on here and she's a tattler. Keep reading, though! I'll try to write a scene that may have lead up to something of that sort and I'll try to make it as lemon-ish as my fifteen year old mind will allow me to.**

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><p>For the rest of the day I feel my skin crawl because I know the tattoo is there. I scratch and scratch at my arm, digging at the tattoo, wishing I could scratch it away somehow. Thomas swats my hand away several times, telling me to stop digging at the dark tattoo. Only I couldn't- I figured I could scratch it away if I simply dug hard enough. I hate the feeling of having it on my skin. I'll be damned if I'm something's "property." I'll get rid of the shucking thing one way or another even if I have to take a knife to my skin to get it off.<p>

"Elizabeth, stop scratching!" Thomas says. He swats my arm away from my side, glaring at me. "You're going to dig a hole in your arm."

I huff, resting against the large tree stump. Thomas claims both my hands in his, looking over the healing gashes. The MedJacks said my hands needed the air to heal so they unwrapped them for the night. When I start to work they'll wrap them and have me wear gloves until then. "Lizzie, it's okay. How come you keep digging at your arm?" He pushes hair out of my face, offering a gentle smile.

I shake my head. "Want it gone." I hide my head in my arms, lying against my knees.

Thomas leans over, kissing my cheek. "Don't be so upset over it." He winds his arm around my tiny waist, kissing my forehead and then my cheek again. He hooks his fingers beneath my chin, stroking my cheek. "What's bothering you so bad about it?"

"Don't wanna belong to something," I say, forcing words from my clumsy tongue. Thomas took to the talk quickly, realization clicking in his eyes that I talk this way when I become profusely upset. "Don't wanna be branded like a damn head of cattle." I look over at Thomas and he leans forwards, kissing me gently. I frown, tinkering around with my fingers.

Thomas shakes his head. "Whatever those…those people put on you, it doesn't define you. You don't belong to them, Lizzie."

"I'm just scared," I say quietly. "Everything that I think is real…it might be fake."

"Should it be real or not real, I'd love you no less," Thomas says. "You'd still be my Elizabeth. You're mine- all mine." He smiles and captures my lips into a kiss. When he pulls back he drops a kiss to my forehead, pushing himself up onto his feet.

I knit my eyebrows together. "Where are you going?"

Thomas chuckles. "I'm taking advantage of this celebration to use the bathroom. I've had to pee all day." He spins on his heel to walk away and he turns back to look at me, his dark eyes narrowing in on me. "So help me if I catch you scratching that damn tattoo…"

"That a threat?" I ask.

"That's a promise," Thomas says. Then he turns, running in a mad sprint towards the bathroom a ways down the Homestead. Since everybody is enjoying festivities I couldn't blame him for wanting to take advantage of the vacant bathroom.

I feel my hand fly to my arm to scratch once again at the tattoo when I hear a familiar voice. It's Newt with his big bright eyes and his brilliant smile. "Drop your hands, love. Stop bloody scratching- you're making my skin crawl." He sits next to me, in his hands two jars filled with liquid. Newt hands one to me. "Like a drink? Take your mind off stuff?"

I accept it, smelling of the strange liquid in the glass. "Go ahead. It's not too bad the first time around." Newt drinks his own pungent mixture, wiggling his eyebrows. I proceed to take a drink and I the moment it touches my tongue I drop the glass and the liquid in my mouth sails through the air and wets the grass. Newt's laughing, strangling on his own mix of the stuff. "Its bark it worse than its bite."

"Shuck," I sputter, glaring at Newt. I mumble a string of Glader-cuss slang, evoking Newt until he reaches the point of tears. "This ain't funny, Newt!"

Newt's eyes flicker towards me, shining golden in the fire light. He composes himself, looking over his shoulder. "How long does it take a Shank to use the bathroom?" Newt looks down at me, settling himself on the ground.

"Hasn't gone all day," I reply quietly. I chuckle, imagining Thomas being walked in on while he took a shower.

"He'll learn," Newt says. "We'll beat the shyness outta em'." We both snicker and laugh until Newt draws a paper out of his pocket. "For you, though…we're building some things special for you." He scoots closer, unfolding the papers. "Gally and I spoke this morning. We're building you your own room and bathroom. Personally I don't like it when boys whistle at you and I don't think that Greenie's gonna like it either."

I chuckle. "You're building me all this…why?"

"Zart told me about your bathroom incidents. You have…ahem…extra baggage," Newt says awkwardly, his eyes skimming over my entire body. I felt a fiery blush heat my cheeks. "We want to leave you some privacy here. "I'm tired of everybody cracking fake stories about seeing your knockers…"

"My knockers?" I ask, voice hoarse. I think of my entire body and I know it's entire different from a boy's. I have breasts and all of that… I just wouldn't believe they'd call them "knockers."

Newt nods. "Yes…your bloody knockers." Silence falls between us- awkward silence, that is. I lift my glass to my lips, drinking from it. The taste was awful but not like it had been the first time. "Told you it doesn't taste like klunk after the first time you try it."

I cock an eyebrow at him. "How do you know what that tastes like?"

"Long story I'd rather not ever talk about," Newt says. "Slim it and drink your stuff." He laughs as he tilts his head back, drinking the rest of the potent mixture. I follow suit, my stomach heavy with the feeling of the drink. I shoot comments back and forth with Newt until Thomas drops in next to me, a smile on his face, his eyes a hundred times brighter and smile a hundred times bigger.

"Does it take fifteen minutes to pee?" I ask.

Thomas grunts. "Somebody was in there. I can't pee in front of somebody."

I chuckle and Thomas winds his arm around my shoulder, pressing a kiss to my forehead. His eyes flicker towards Newt, brown boring into brown. Newt nods lightly at him. "Your remember anything yet, Greenie?"

Thomas shakes his head. "No…nothing. The only thing I remember coming up out of the Box is Lizzie."

I smile, patting his cheek. "It's okay. It'll come back within a few days."

Thomas nods, falling silent. Newt, with a smirk on his face, gives Thomas his jar of potent liquid. Newt shook his head, putting his hand on mine to let me know he could find out himself. With amused expressions we watch Thomas take a swig of the liquid poison and do a spit-take, coughing and puttering at the air.

Newt and I laugh at him, Thomas giving the potent drink to Newt. He wipes his mouth on his sleeve, sticking his tongue out as to emphasize how nasty the drink is. I roll my eyes, holding tightly to Thomas' hand. "You're such a shucking drama queen." I lift his hand, running my thumb along his knuckles. Thomas shakes his head.

"You abuse me!" Thomas exclaims.

I give him a dirty look. "I do not!" I settle back against the tree stump, interlocking hands with Thomas. "You'd know if I abused you." With a howling laugh Newt and I settle back, leaving Thomas slightly appalled.

Between Thomas, Newt, and me, we three create chit-chat. It minutes later when we hear the turning and shifting of the Maze, hearing the groaning and whirring of the creatures inside. Thomas' dark eyes filled with some sort of worry and I felt his hand grip around mine tightly, his arm around my waist drawing me close. The Grievers inside still worried me and sleeping at night wasn't an option if they and the Maze were too active.

Thomas looks between me and Newt for conformation. "What the hell was that?"

"It was the Maze," I say quietly. "And the things inside of it."

"What's in there?" Thomas asks.

I shrug. "Nobody knows… Those things called Grievers, though. Newt said nobody's seen one before." I smile grimly, tracing patterns on Thomas' arm. Newt then taps my shoulder, pointing towards the large bonfires in which there were people drinking and celebrating.

"C'mon, let's go. You two are the guests of honor," Newt says. He pulls me to my feet, Thomas following. "I'll meet you two there." Newt kisses me lightly on the cheek before scattering wildly to the bonfire, something off about his run, though. I look to Thomas who doesn't look too keen on being in the large crowds.

I nudge him. "Come on, let's have some fun." I tug him forwards, the two of us walking to the dancing crowd of boys.

…

Thomas began acting funny as we neared the bonfire. His face contorted and his eyes filled with unease. I seriously thought I'd need Jeff and Clint to drag him to the Med building. "Are you okay?" I ask for the millionth time, taking Thomas' face in my hands. He felt clammy and his skin was cold and a sickish pale color.

Thomas kisses the inside of my hand over one of the crude gashes. "I'm fine, Lizzie." He pecks me gently on the lips, giving me a convincing smile. "Let's find Newt, Liz'." His eyes search the crowd and Newt is standing with Alby and Minho, watching two boys square off on a circle formed by drawing it with a stick and a large circle of people standing around it. As Thomas and I near I see Gally taking down a boy with curly hair, shoving him roughly out of the circle. Newt is there, cheering on the poor boy that was shoved by Gally. The boy rolled around in the dirt, the breath having been knocked out of him. We joined Newt, Minho, and Alby where I was stolen out of Thomas' arms and I was perched on Alby's back, held up by strong, reassuring arms. Thomas was stunned but he laughed when he saw me on Alby's back, arms wound around his neck to hold myself up.

"Can't see, Liz'?" Thomas asks.

I narrow in my eyes on him. "You're such a shuck."

Thomas chuckles, looking back out to where Gally had once again taken out another boy. I cringe when I hear another young boy eats Gally's dust, his body rolling on the ground as the last boy's had. The boy limped away, holding his stomach. Then somebody volunteers Thomas. The brown eyed boy hesitates and I want to speak out against him- tell him that he doesn't need to get hurt. Newt whispers to Thomas that all he needs to do is stay in the ring and then sends him off. I practically cling to Alby, hiding my face against his bald head when Gally delivers the first blow. I look up to see he's been shoved back into the ring, caught by a group of boys on the right side of the circle.

"Watch, Greenbean!" Alby says. He settles me on my feet and Newt throws his arm around me, winking. Minho wraps his arm around my shoulder, chuckling. Alby looks over at me, nodding at Thomas. "It's not as scary as it looks. He's not all delicate, ya' know."

I roll my eyes, watching was Thomas charges at Gally once again. I flinch when Thomas comes flying out of the ring, the breath knocked out of his body. I feel a tiny spark of anger and I bend down in front of Thomas. He looks up at me, eyes spinning in his head.

"You get out there and kick Gally's ass," I say sternly. I bend down, pecking him on the lips and Thomas jumped up, energy coursing through him like he was a new man. I walk back to Newt, Minho, and Alby- they all stare like I've done a miracle.

Minho whistles. "Can you let me in on the magic performed on him? I'm positive that I need some of it."

I shake my head. "Shut your shuck-face." I watch as Thomas charges at Gally, arms winding tightly around the boy's waist and I watch as his feet dig into the dirt. I fear that he'll get thrown out again when Gally's bulky form hits the ground, surprise riddling his eyes. I cheered out loud, waving my arms and jumping up and down. I was spun around by Newt and flipped by Alby and Minho- Thom's kicking ass!

Gally shoves Thomas, angry. "Can I call you Shank?" Gally sneers, pushing him.

Thomas shoves him back, distress in his eyes. "Stop calling me that!" Thomas screams. He loses his footing by another violent shove on Gally behalf.

"I think it fits you," Gally says. "Shank fits you! Hey, Shank!"

Thomas growls. I feel my heart pound when something comes across his brown eyes- a self revelation. He lets out a whisper. _"Thomas." _ I watch, feeling my heart pound when he says it louder. "Thomas!" The crowd of people falls silent and I feel Thomas' eyes on me. He smiles, tears of joy streaking down his face. "Thomas! I'm Thomas."

I smile, launching myself towards him. Thomas' arms pull me to him and his lips crush against mine, his fingers tangling in my hair. I laugh, drawing back. Everybody crowds around us, cheers of the name "Thomas" thrown in the air. "I'm Thomas, Lizzie. Thomas…"

I brush his bangs back, kissing him again lightly. "Yes, you are. You're my Thomas."

…

"We held your Gathering a while ago," Newt says. His brown eyes sparkle as we pick fruits and vegetables, dropping them into baskets. "I'm sure you'll be happy with your position."

I look back at Newt. I sure hope I'm happy with their decision. They had me try out the Jobs early this morning at the crack of dawn with all of the other workers. They had me clean a bit which didn't interest me in the least; they had me do what they call "Bag" which involved me help the Baggers get rid of the dead animal bodies that made me sick- Thomas chased me down into a corner of the Maze where he caught me vomiting my meager breakfast because the sight sickened me; they had me work in the Blood House but I became upset at the sight of one of the boys slaughtering a lamb and they handed me a bloody machete, expecting me to do the same- I ran crying to Newt and Thomas who comforted me, saying that it was out of the question; Minho took me on a sprint around the Glade in which I kept up with him even in my short stature- I even ran faster than him; I tried to build with Gally but due to my hands and all I was too weak to build; they tried me out in the Gardens and I loved it- I loved picking the vegetables and fruits.

"Zart suggested you be his right-hand," Newt says. "We all agreed on it." In the basket goes another tomato and I chuck some green beans into a basket, looking over to Thomas who carefully gathers apples into a basket that ties around his neck, dropping them in gently as not to bruise them. He winks at me, giving a word of congratulations. "So you, love, are working in the Gardens from here on."

I smile. "Thank you, Newt. Could have given me something else that I didn't like- for a Gardener, I am grateful."

Newt shakes his head. "Gally, Minho, and Ben were considering you as a Runner."

I feel my heart drop a little. "How come you didn't say yes, then?"

Newt gives me a look. "Because you know the risks involved. I'm not risking you out there. Zart, Alby, and I were against it. No matter how fast you run, in the end a Griever will kill you. I'm not losing somebody to another one of those slintheads. Tommy there even advised me on it."

I look to Thomas who glares. "I'm just keeping you safe, Elizabeth."

"By what, treating me like a baby?" I ask, dropping a handful of green beans into the basket.

Thomas sighs. As he steps down the ladder he places his basket down on the ground. He touches my cheek gently. "I know very good and well you can fend for yourself, but you have to understand that like Newt says, there are things out there in the Maze. Do you know why I said what I did?"

"Because you love me?" I question.

Thomas chuckles. "Because I love you more than my own life. I couldn't live with myself if…" He trails off, pecking me softly on the lips. I hear Newt cough from behind, his eyes turning to the color of honey in the afternoon sunlight.

"Lizzie, will you go get some more fertilizer?" Newt asks. Hell, he practically throws the bucket at me. "Stop sucking face, you two!" I laugh, picking up the bucket and shovel. Newt howls with laughter, too, watching as I stalk off to collect fertilizer for the garden. I stalk off into the trees where I learned the compost pile was, gliding my way down the bank. Holding the bucket and shovel I walk casually through the thickly forested trees, taking in its beauty. As I walk I look down to my left, my eyes capturing a crudely made name on a stone. _"GEORGE." _ Around it is bones and all- hell, there are even dead flowers…

From behind I hear a cough. I jump, spinning around on my heel quickly. I see a tall blonde boy with big blue eyes and blonde hair. He looked exhausted, his body slouched forwards. Veins dragged across his pale skin, making him look like death. I gulp, studying him for a moment. "Hi…you must be Ben. I'm Lizzie."

He stared at me and when he opened his mouth he coughs, wiping his mouth when a fountain of blood gushed out. Then, Ben pointed one finger at me, his eyes full of hatred. One word comes out of his mouth, gargled by spit and blood. _"Bad." _

"Ben?" I ask cautiously. "C'mon, let's go get you checked out. I'll walk you to see Jeff and Clint myself." I reach out to touch him, my fingers just skimming his shoulder when he lets out a violent roar. He slaps my hand away, leaving a trail of his own blood across my skin.

Ben shoves me violently backwards. "No! You're _bad_!" He says the word, putting ever ounce of hatred he can into it. "You're _**wicked**_." I stagger to my feet only to be tackled to the ground, Ben's heavy body pins me to the ground, his hands around my neck. I claw at him- I struggle with every ounce of strength I have in me. I claw at his face, remembering what I had done to Gally the first day I was here. I punch, kick, and scratch, screaming when he loosens on my throat. I scream for everybody I can- but Thomas' name comes out every other one, hoping he'd be my savior.

Beside me, Ben rolls around on the forest floor, struggling to regain his breath. Blood was all over him- his blood, my blood. There was just blood everywhere. I push myself to my feet, screaming for Thomas and whoever else I could name without thinking. I staggered up the embankment, the shovel still somehow caught in my hand. Through my daze I could hear screaming- terrified screams. I looked over my shoulder and Ben charged at me and his large hand that wasn't holding his nose that I broke grabbed at my ankle. I felt my body hit the forest floor, knocking the breath I didn't have out of me and he begins to pull me back into the woods. On sheer instinct I use the shovel, watching it slice across his left eye and blood spurted. I turned my head when it splattered across my face because we were that close, scattering up the embankment. I spit out a round of blood to the ground, searching the crowd of running boys for someone familiar. Then, in my daze, one finds me- a boy with brown hair.

"I'm here." The voice belongs to Thomas. His eyes are wide and full of panic. His hands are all over my body, checking me for what damage has been done. Thomas uncovers bruises and scrapes along my stomach and on my back. He uses his own shirt to clean the blood off my face and finds a jagged cut that runs from the start of my hair line and ends just above my right eyebrow. "Does anything feel broken? Elizabeth, baby, can you breathe?"

"I'm fine," I say. I struggle to smile and Thomas only draws me tightly into his arms, running his fingers through my hair. "Fine; I'm fine." I cling to him tightly, struggling to find the familiar feeling of safety in his arms that he usually gives.

Over the talk of the boys I hear the team of them that have proceeded to take Ben in. They talk loudly as though not to make me hear something he says. But Ben's screams won the war. _"She's bad! Bad, bad, bad, BAD!" _He says it over and over again like a mantra that could somehow console him- trying to convince the team of terrified males that I'm bad. _"No! She's bad! She's __**wicked**__!" _ The whole way they drag Ben, he screams to the top of his lungs, thrashing and kicking in their arms. He screams about how wicked I am. And somehow I begin to believe I'm wicked, too.


	7. Real

**mariihamadeh: Thank you! I hope you keep reading!**

**LovelyBlue99: Thanks! I'm glad you liked it!**

**GwenLjung21: I plan on making Lizzie a Runner as soon as possible- although the way she gets caught in the Maze isn't idea... Onwards from that, I'll have plenty of awkward jokes in here- the sexual pun in this chapter made me laugh and I believe that the next chapter's will be brilliant. Also, as for Thomas and the Gladers- their relationship gets nasty here in a few chapters on some upsetting circumstances. Also, this chapter's memory is a warm up for the next few memories- I don't recommend getting comfortable. Keep reading, though! Looking forwards to your next review!**

**Java60072: Not everything will be smooth sailing between Thomas and Lizzie for much longer. I'm sure a twist here and there will throw their relationship off quickly. But nonetheless thank you for reading and keep reviewing!**

**Guest: Thank you! That means a lot to me in many ways.**

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><p><em>They were coming again- the bad people. Jonathan and I had heard them coming from our tiny bedroom upstairs. The telltale signs were the shrieks coming from the outside and the sounds of shattering glass. Their screams were loud and piercing that shattered my ear drums and caused Jonathan to hide off in a corner. His body trembled and shook as he rocked back and forth. In one hand Jonathan held a stuffed toy whom he named Mr. Buttons and in the other a gun. I, too, pressed myself back into the farthest part of our room in hopes they'd pass us over. We barricaded the door with a wardrobe and pushed a bed against it with whatever strength we held. That was the last time we saw the outside world.<em>

"_Lizzie?" Jonathan asks. His voice was hoarse when he heard the howling laughter outside that we associated with the Bad People. Over the laughter there was a scream and then the awful sound of metal cracking against something._

_I shake my head. His voice faltered and together we suffer the hours of screaming and the maniacal laughter. We held hands; each of us clinging to one another like our lives depended on it. The suffering ended when we fell asleep. The silence was blissful, but not as blissful as death seems. We're scared and confused- we're children. Children left in a desolate neighborhood alone because everybody ran… Truth is- we wanted to run, too. But we're the Left Behind._

_I'm shaken out of my restless sleep by Jonathan. He's breathing frantically, his little body shaking. "Elizabeth, I heard something break. I think the Bad People through the front door." A feeling of dread takes me over- since we've been locked up here in the room others have been unfortunate people have suffered the Bad People. Jonathan and I have peered out the windows before and we saw blood splattered up on the windows and leaked down the sides of the roofs. They knew we were here the entire time- they were only saving the best for last._

_I point towards the closet. "Hide- cock the gun. We hide and don't come out. We shoot of they come in."_

_Jonathan shakes his head. His voice rises into a scream. "We're kids! What are we going to do?! They're going to get in- they're going to-" His violent rant is cut off when the bed is thrown violent against the wall, the wardrobe is knocked over, and the window is broken shattered. They're going to kill us. We're going to die… Jonathan and I are going to die. I look to my left to see two of the Bad People perched in the window- their faces are covered in blood, their eyes dark. Their skin is broken open and bleeding, blood dripping slowly from their mouths either from own or belonging to their last victims._

_When I turn to my right there are four standing in the doorway, staring at Jonathan and me as if we were the most engrossing creatures. Jonathan leveled his gun, hands shaking, and he fired a shot. It sunk into one's flesh and it didn't even flinch. It didn't move once. Then, it tilted its head back and it screamed. It screamed. Then they all attacked- one first laid claim to me by using his sharp fingernails and it raked down my arm, leaving a searing pain in its wake. Jonathan fired shots and I, too, fired what was in the gun I had. In ten shots all of my bullets were gone but I was close to a possible haven- a closet I could lock myself inside of. My fingers barely skimmed the knob when I heard the scream of terror- it was Jonathan, his nine year old body pushed against the floor, surrounded by the bad people. Their bony hands held them done and they shrieked and laughed, looking down at Jon. They all piled on top of him, leaving him screaming and unable to move. I launch myself into the closet, holding the door shut with all my might. Jonathan's screams were the loudest- he cried for help, his voice cut off by a gurgle that faded away. As I held the door shut blood seeped in though the bottom of the door, soaking my tennis shoes and my pants._

_The maniacal laugher still went on and on- it terrorized me for hours. They shifted away from their activities and began beating violently on the door to my closet, scratching and clawing. They splashed in the scarlet blood as if they were rain puddles, their voices somehow forming a single word._

"_Wicked! Wicked! Wicked!"_

…

My own shriek pulls me from my sleep, rattling me to the bone. I'm on the wooden floor of the Glade's make-shift hospital, thrashing against a blanket that has tangled itself around my ankles. It's pitch black except for the moonlight that falls in through the windows, casting shadows on the floor. It's just like the setting in the hellish dream…or the memory. I don't know what it was. In my mind I see the people flashing like a film- the Bad People. Whatever the boy called them. I see their faces covered with blood and hear the maniacal laughter in my ears like a ringing that won't go away. I can still hear the cacophony of their voices screaming at me…telling me I'm wicked.

I pull myself up, looking around the darkened room. Nobody resides here but me- I can hear a snoring boy downstairs who I know is Clint. The footsteps that approach me belong to Jeff because he's so quick on his feet. As I resettle myself the boy rushes in through the door, his eyes wide with panic. "Lizzie, you okay? Heard you screaming…" He stalks inside, holding up a candle to light the darkness. "You said somethin' about the bad people."

I think to myself about how loud I was. If I woke one of the heaviest sleeping boys in this damn place I must have made a pretty big ruckus. My eyes flicker to Jeff and I offer a shaky smile. "I'm fine…" I push myself onto my feet, taking the thin blanket and I tightly wind it around my shoulders. I pad lightly across the floor, easing past Jeff who stops me.

"Liz', you need to lie back down," Jeff says quietly. "In fact, I need to do a quick follow up with some of your injuries."

I shrug him off. "No. Need...Thomas."

Jeff shakes his head. "I'll go get him myself if you just get back in bed. You have a concussion and I don't think you should be walking…" His dark eyes narrow in on me, struggling to convince me. "Please, Liz', go back to bed. Get some rest; I'll go and wake up Clint, he'll get Thomas, and I'll look you over."

"I'm fine," I say quietly. I continue on past him and I hear him give an exasperated sigh. I begin to shiver when my bare feet touches the cold ground of the Homestead. I walk quickly across the Glade to where the boys slept, remembering where Thomas sleeps. He sleeps in the little secluded corner in the back of the overhang where I sleep. In the burning torch light I see his body curled in his hammock, a blanket thrown across his body. As I near him I can see his eyes are open, his muscles tense and cheeks tear stained.

I cough quietly. "Tommy?"

Thomas body shoots up like a bullet, his brown eyes wide. The blanket that covered his body falls to the ground and he almost does, too. Then he gives me the same lopsided smile I fell in love with what seems like yesterday. "Hey. What are you doing awake?" He rubs at his eyes, trying to erase evidence of any tears. "Is something bothering you?"

I smile bitterly. "Bad dream…" Bad…seems like that word is everywhere.

"Come here," Thomas says. He holds his arms out to me and I need not be told twice. He pulls me tightly to him when I close enough, the warm safety of his arms calming away the images of the screaming and laughing maniacs. In the hammock we both have enough room to move around- hell, it seems to swallow us. I settle myself against Thomas' side, laying my head against his chest. "Do you wanna talk about it?" With his foot his begins the process of rocking the hammock side to side, creating a soothing motion that I suppose comforts the both of us.

I shake my head. "No."

Thomas kisses my forehead lightly. He adjusts the blanket over both of us, hugging me tightly to him afterwards. "Is it because you're scared of it or you're scared of what reaction you'll get from me?"

"Kind of both," I answer. I look up at him and he brings his hand to my cheek, allowing his thumb to trace my jaw line. My eyes flutter closed as to cherish to quiet moment between us and I feel Thomas' lips on mine. When he pulls away the sudden absence of the warmth of his lips bothers me. "I just don't want you to think…"

"What, Elizabeth?" Thomas asks.

I hide my head against his chest, eyes squeezed shut. I can see their faces even now- the "Bad Peoples'" blood splattered faces and the demonic smiles. One of them had looked at me right in the eye- I remember the searing pain of the one that had first lunged at me rake its fingernails down my arm. "That I'm wicked." I don't dare look up at him- I keep my eyes diverted and I trace patterns over his bare arm, trying to distract myself.

Thomas stops me. He shifts me around that way I'm not hiding against his chest. "Tell me what happened, Liz." Then, beginning with a shaky voice, I explain the entire sequence of the horrid nightmare. I think even Thomas gets scared but his eyes soften lightly at the end when I tell them about them screaming "Wicked" at me.

"You're not wicked," Thomas says. "You're anything but wicked. Whatever you dreamed…whatever you remember- it doesn't define you."

I smile shakily and Thomas presses his lips lightly against mine. "Go to sleep. I'll be right here when you wake up." I feel his arms wind around me once more and the soothing rocking motion of Thomas' hammock continues. I find myself falling victim to sleep quickly, unable to keep my eyes open. As I fade into sleep I hear Thomas humming an odd tune in my ear that is comforting nonetheless- and it has a strange familiarity about it I can't shake.

…

"_Aww…they're so buggin' cute together- I don't like it." _

"_I have a bloody good idea. You know where a bucket is?"_

"_Corner of the shed next to the Garden."_

"_Good that! Slim it and wait until I'm back. We don't wanna wake em' up…yet."_

"_On the count of three… One. Two. THREE!" _

My body meets the hard ground, knocking the breath out of me. Above me Thomas still thrashes, evoking roaring laughter from our attackers. I spit out a round of cold water onto the dirt flooring. I push myself up, wrapping my arms around my waist, shivering from the icy water delivered to me and Thomas. Thomas still thrashes, practically drowning in the hammock that still holds water. The two boys who were our attackers are none other than Minho and Newt, howling with laughter. Newt leans against a beam while Minho jumps up and down with glee, the two beginning to cry.

Thomas finally rolls himself out of the hammock with a loud thud. With a cloth provided by Minho he blows water from his nose and spits water to the ground. I begin to laugh along with them, not as annoyed as I was when I was woken. "You two are mean," I pout.

"What? You two could have been getting…well…around," Minho says. His face heats various shades of red and I can see Newt develop a glare and he pinpoints it on Minho. "What?! They like each other and they may want to participate in…activities."

Newt shakes his head. Thomas' face burns red and I can feel the rush of heat from the back of my neck, then to the tips of my ears, and then it hits my face, the color like that of the strawberries in the Garden. Thomas coughs. "I wouldn't participate in "activities" in the open." That just topped it off- I feel my face burn beneath the blush and I see Newt even begin to become uncomfortable- maybe even mad.

"Lizzie bloody participating in this Activity," Newt says. "I'll be damned before I let her."

Minho chuckles. "I bet you want to do the Activity with Alby."

"Shuck you," Newt says. "I'll do it with Alby when you do it with Chuck."

I look over at Thomas and he shrugs. With a disturbed look on his face he walks over quietly to a tiny wooden trunk hidden in the corner of our overhang and pulls out a set of clean clothing. He tosses the neatly folded set of clothes to me and I catch them. He winks playfully at me and I chuckle, turning to see that Newt and Minho was delved further into their dirty conversation.

Thomas smiles. "Go and change. Meet me in the Garden?"

I nod, stalking over to Thomas and pull him down to my lips. I lock my arms around him, holding him tightly to him. "I love you," I say quietly after I pull away.

"I love you, too," Thomas says lightly. He gives me a chaste kiss before I turn off, scattering to the bathroom to change after running out a series of boys with threats and a sharp stick. I'm still shivering even as I change, pulling on a pair of new pants Thomas provided me with. My eyes flicker to the small mirror over the sink- it's cracked in places but nonetheless functional.

My curiosity sparks as I've never seen myself in a mirror before- I don't know much about what I look like. I know I have strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes, but it has never crossed me much more about my appearance. I mean the boys whistle at me enough to make it known they think I'm the prettiest damn thing in the Glade. As I pull my shirt over my head I look into the mirror, seeing a tiny girl in my reflection. Her hair is a mess of curls tied back into a bun, coils of hair framing her face; her eyes are huge and blue like a clear morning sky; her face is made up of soft features and she has a sort of a permanent blush; her entire body is tiny- a skinny waist, small arms and legs that seem frails as if somebody that touched her could break her body. Me…that girl is me. I study closer to see pale scars exposed along my collar bone and my neck- they're jagged but faint. On my left arm there is the _WICKED _tattoo in black ink, but that doesn't come as surprise. On my right, though, are puckered scars that wind around my arm like silvery ribbons. They begin just at my shoulder and circle around my entire arm until it ends at the inside of my wrist.

I think back to the crude nightmare of the "Bad People" attacking. I remember in the horrifying image one of them clawed my arm, their jagged nails raking down my arm. I feel tears sting at my eyes and I trace the scars along my arm. The little boy was real- he was killed by those things. They nearly killed me…

It was all real.


	8. Run

**Sorry I haven't updated in a while! I hope everybody enjoys it! Also, if you are easily made sick or if you are faint of heart I strongly suggest you may not want to read this chapter as it involves blood and gore. **

**Java60072: The wakeup call was by far my favorite, too. Funniest scene ever. Hope you keep reading!**

**GwenLjung21: Well you'll get some more of your answers this chapter- I hope, anyways. I really hope you enjoy this chapter because stakes are risen and the drama is boiling. This chapter by far was my favorite to write! I hope you enjoy and keep reading!**

**Iste: Thank you- writing is my passion and specialty! I was planning for this to be Newt/OC but I felt there was a lack of Thomas- I mean c'mon…doesn't he deserve some glory, too? Ahh…Thomas- I love the guy. I might have to battle him for you- hahaha. Just kidding. Hope you enjoy and keep reading!**

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><p>My head spins rapidly, creating waves of nausea. The memory bombarded me, replaying itself until I knew every little last detail. I know exactly what the boy looks like- Jonathan; he looked like me with short strawberry blond hair and big blue eyes with the same sharp features and little frame. I know how the "Bad People" look from their matted and tangled hair down to their bloodied feet; I remember the sounds they screamed- ear shattering sounds that made me spasm. I recall the intensity of the fiery pain in my left arm- I now know every angle of my five scars, the reminder that it was all real. That Jonathan was dead and that it was my fault because I didn't yank him into the closet with me. I still remember every droplet of blood that was on my jeans. I remember that splashing sound of the Bad People splashing in Jonathan's blood.<p>

I asked them all earlier to leave me alone- the boys. I wanted time to myself to allow myself to think. I didn't want the distraction of worried boys to pull me from my thoughts even though a distraction seems pretty good right now. I knew they came by and peeked at me where I laid- I was in my hammock, covered by a thin blanket as I fell into the shock of remembering everything that was said and what happened. There was times I knew Newt came by- he'd squeeze my shoulder and kiss my cheek; Gally came and would adjust my blanket around me; Alby would feel of my forehead as to ensure I wasn't sick; Thomas would come by and I'd feel his lips on mine and he'd whisper words of comfort before he'd trail off. It was a repetitive cycle in which I took comfort in but I didn't reply, sorting through what I felt and when I had seen. As I laid there I wanted to shout out of one of them- to tell them I was scared. I wanted to tell them about what all I had seen…to tell them that somehow it was real. I just couldn't ever bring myself to do it.

"Lizzie?" Thomas' voice brings me back a little. I'm not reliving the nightmarish scene too badly- only flashing this time. A splash of blood; the flash of the muzzle of the gun… "Elizabeth, baby, talk to me… I can't help you if you don't tell me what's hurting you."

I turn over, still hugging my blanket close to me like a security line. Thomas smiles lightly, reaching out his hand to run his fingers through my hair. His eyes change color in the sunlight- a gentle amber color aside from his usual dark brown. They're such a beautiful sight…enough to call me back to reality. "There's my girl," Thomas says quietly. He leans in, brushing his lips lightly against mine. "Sounds like you've had a rough couple of hours."

I smile grimly and I lean up, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck. Thomas settles himself in my own hammock with me lying in his lap, soothed as he uses his foot to swing the hammock gently. We fade into a peaceful silence when he breaks out into a gentle tone of voice. "I had a nightmare last night, too." That's what had upset him- his shaking body; the tears in his eyes. "Scared the hell out of me…"

I look up at him. "Wanna talk about it, Thom?"

"Baby, I don't know," Thomas says hesitantly.

"It might help," I say, smiling when Tomas realizes I have used his words and threw them back in his face.

Thomas chuckles. "Touché, Elizabeth." He presses his lips against my forehead, sighing with contentment for the moment. Then, he begins his story hesitantly. His voice his hoarse and he speaks with uncertainty, as if it would come back to haunt him. "I was in a house...with a couple. Me and a man were sitting in a living room, playing a game…he looked just like me. There was a woman in the kitchen, a baby on her hip- she was so beautiful. The man was laughing at me, calling me a different name from what I have now. They were so happy- I was happy." Thomas' face pales, his voice squeaking as he tells the rest of the story.

"The man and I were arguing when the woman screamed. Glass shattered and the wet sound of something sinking into flesh was able to be heard. I followed the man into the kitchen despite his warning and there was blood everywhere…oh, God, it was everywhere! There were a group of people there- people with tattered clothing and bloody skin. Blood poured down their face when they looked up from the woman's body- they were eating her! She was beaten and bloody- her skull was bashed in. The baby she held was dead to- the baby lay on the floor, dead; his head hung at an unnatural angle. They snapped his neck. Those…those things looked at the man and they lunged at him. I was told to run and I did- I ran. The man screamed- he wasn't able to fight them- they had a superhuman strength. I ran upstairs into a run- I slammed and locked the door and hid underneath the bed. I could still hear the man screaming downstairs for help as they…I don't know what they did to him. But then, they were silenced by those things. Then I heard them begin to scream these chaotic screams- it sounded like a laugh. They carried on downstairs and then ran upstairs- they began banging on my door, laughing and screaming at me.

I cried myself to sleep after what felt like hours. When I woke it was pitch black in the room and those things were still there, beating and banging at my door. But over their screams I heard gunfire. Their screams were cut off violent by bloody gurgles and then the door was flung open, flashlights shining on the floor. I saw a pair of black shoes and I heard a little girl crying… I thought I was dead when I saw a man drop to the floor, shining a flashlight back at me. He was dressed in white, his uniform saturated in blood. I crawled out to him and he lifted me up. There was a man in the far corner of my room calming down a terrified girl- she was covered in blood and filth from head to toe. Her tiny arm was bandaged, the sterile cloth soaked crimson."

Thomas takes in a shaky breath, his body trembling. He hides his face in my hair, his arm tight around my body. I feel his heart hammering wildly, warm tears hitting the back of my neck, soaking into my shirt. I reach up, running my fingers through his hair and his eyes fall on me once more. They're loving and soft now, but his mouth is in a twisted line of pain. "The little girl had red curls and big blue eyes… I saw you, Elizabeth. Oh, God…you were so scared. So little. You were screaming for that boy you told me about- Jonathan."

"He was my brother, wasn't he?" I ask quietly.

Thomas nods into my hair. "He was your twin brother. I remember you telling me about him…"

I feel guilt and dread overtake my being. Jonathan…he was my brother. I couldn't save my own brother. I left him to die out there with those freaks. I let them tear him apart. I didn't try to save him. I let him die. I killed my brother. I launch myself off of Thomas, Jonathan's screams playing in my ears as I sprint. Nausea washes over my body like a sea but my legs carry me out further and further, the nausea long forgotten. I hear the terrified screams of all the boys but I tune them out. They scream louder and louder, reminding me of the Bad People. I have to get away from here. I can't deal with remembering the Bad People. I can deal with remembering Jonathan and I were the Left Behind. I can't deal with remembering I killed my twin brother.

Everything I remembered before- it was true. I put these people here. I hurt each and every one of them and I didn't even blink an eye at them. I didn't stop that woman from trying to drown Minho. I didn't stop those men from electrocuting Newt. I didn't help Chuck when he lay there lifeless… I hurt them.

I don't think I can live with myself. Not anymore.

And if I don't want to live, I know the exact place to go where I know I'll die somehow...

…

My body is knocked to the ground hard. Pain radiates from my neck to my lower back, knocking the breath out of me. I lie on the ground, unable to breathe, trembling as I realize what I've done and where I've gone. I look up to see cement walls surrounding me, closing me in. They're covered with vines and mold, parts of it crumbling away from the elements. I've come into the Maze- the place where I can end it all. I pick myself up off the ground, unable to catch my breath because of the intense pain in my back and getting up doesn't do me justice. I'm knocked off my feet again, pain radiating in my jaw and I feel blood dribbling down the side of my face.

"_That was the stupidest shucking thing you have ever done!" _The voice is Gally's. When I roll over onto my side, groaning in pain, I look up at Gally. He's angry- very angry. His face with red and his usually green eyes are black and dilated, leaving them looking as though he has only pupils. He massages his hand and I see judging from the forming bruise he backhanded me in the face. "We're going to die, you shucking bitch! We're dead because of you!"

I pick myself up, running my fingers over my lips to only find blood. I struggle to breathe, leaning against the wall. "Then let me die. You didn't have to follow me out here, slinthead. _Let me die, Gally, please_."

Gally pulls my arm roughly. "No, we're making it out of here. Then I'm going to shucking kill you!"

I tentatively touch my jaw, nearly crying out. "Stop touching me!"

"Then pick your sorry shucking butt up! Shuck, Lizzie!" Gally screams. He shoves me forwards. "Get moving!" I stumble, breathing heavily. "Why did you do this, Lizzie? Enlighten me."

"I didn't realize where I was shucking going!" I scream back. I wipe blood onto my jeans, shivering. It was progressively getting colder and colder. "But I'm glad I wound up out here. I'll die…I'll die just like Jonathan did."

Gally grips my arms tightly- so hard I fear they've bruised. "You're not making any shucking sense! Lizzie, what's wrong with you?! Your mind is shucking jacked!" Gally looks down at me, fear in his now green eyes. He opens his mouth- probably to scream at me some more- when we hear whirring and hissing. Gally looks down at me, his glare hard and scared. "Lizzie, if we make this, I swear you're not going to like me. Life will be hell for you."

"It already is," I snap.

"Slim it the shuck up," Gally growls. "We're making it back. We've got people to live for. Lizzie, you're not leaving us. Let alone Thomas." With that he pushes me forwards and together we hide in the mess of vines. I'm trembling by this time, the whirring and hissing getting closer and closer. I peek out from the vines, seeing a creature stumbling out about the Maze. It's tall and green and slimy with spider like legs supporting a fat body. I can hear its mouth snapping together as though it is devouring something and indeed it is. There, in its mouth, is a human body. I see a shock of fair hair and I see deathly pale skin. Ripped clothing covers it, shoes and everything else gone.

Gally covers my mouth, the pain blinding from where he had backhanded me. He looks over at me, eyes wide. _"Shh; don't you move a muscle," _Gally mouths. _"It's okay."_

"_That boy…that's Ben… It's eating Ben!" _ It becomes hard to breathe once more and Gally rubs my back soothingly despite the roughness he used earlier. I watch in horror as it tears Ben apart, blood splattering on the concrete. I swallow back bile, squeezing my eyes shut tightly. I begin to think of Thomas, trembling, holding Gally's hand with all my might. Once more I hear the sick sound of something splattering against the concrete and I open my eyes to see that the Griever has totally destroyed Ben's body. Blood has been splattered everywhere and his innards were torn out by the Griever who is now licking up the puddles of blood and it looks like his innards are going to be a midnight snack.

Gally pales even worse. He turns his head, vomiting violently and I squeeze my eyes closed. The Griever looks in our direction and I begin to sob silently, knowing were dead. We're going to die. Gally's going to be the main course and I bet I'm dessert after all this. That thing will drag us to its buddies and they'll eat us. Gally finishes vomiting and he looks over at me and I shake my head, pointing my finger to the Griever who moves closer and closer. I freeze, frozen in shock as it continues to move closer and closer. I clamp my jaw shut, squeezing my eyes closed. I feel the heat of breath in my face, the smell of blood and flesh on its breath. Then, it whirrs softly and turns away, picking up what was left of Ben and it creeps back into the depths of the Maze.

"Lizzie?" Gally asks. He looks over at me, his voice soft.

I don't answer because I gag, throwing up the meager contents of my stomach. Gally pulls back my loose hair, holding it from my face as to ensure I don't throw up on it. He then ties it in with the rest of my hair, his hands on my back as I repeat to violent process of vomiting.

I look back at Gally, finishing the mess of puking. My stomach is unsettled, my throat sore. "Gally, I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking! Gally, I'm sorry!" I sputter, crying the sentence over and over again. His hand comes over my mouth, silencing me and his eyes are soft and thoughtful.

"I'm not mad, Liz'," Gally says. "I'm not mad anymore. I'm just more focused on getting you out of here alive. We're going to get out of here alive. I promise."

I nod and when he uncovers my mouth I wind my arms tightly around the boy, breathing shakily. "I'm scared, Gally."

"Me too, Lizzie," Gally says. He pulls back, holding me at arm's length. "We need to keep moving- try to get closer to the entrance to the Glade. Are you okay to run, Lizzie?"

I nod, following Gally silently out of the mess of vines. We begin to jog, following the sound of screaming boys back to the entrance of the Glade. I can hear them calling- Newt, Alby, Chuck, Jeff, Clint, Minho… They all scream, but the loudest is Thomas. He's doing something more than screaming. It's wild; it's frantic. It scares me down to the bone. Over the boys' screams I hear the hissing and whirring sounds of Grievers. Gally grips my hand.

"_It's okay; we're going to be okay," _Gally says, barely moving his mouth. Gally turns what he believes to be the correct corner, running that way when I hear the first whir from behind us. _"Don't you do it! Don't you dare turn around, Elizabeth!" _But I do. I turn around to see a beast standing tall over Gally and me. Its skin is sickly green and it is slimy and it has beady eyes and pinchers for a mouth. It has a stinger and its feet are that of a spider's legs.

Gally tugs me along, the both of us running as past as we possibly can. Feet slapping the ground we both scream, twisting and turning throughout the Maze. I can hear the boys who are locked in the Glade's walls, screaming. I can hear Thomas' angry voice- it's so frightening. Not more frightening than the Grievers, though…

I feel Gally's hand fall out of mine and I skid to a stop, he lies on the ground, fighting off one of the Grievers, screaming violently. "Lizzie, run! Don't stop! I'll be fine!"

"Gally!" I yell.

"I said run!" Gally screeches back. "I'll catch up with you!" He rolls to his side, dodging the stinger of the Griever. "Run, Lizzie, run!" I turn around, running around the corner of the Maze when the whirring and hissing follows me. I look over my shoulder, seeing that one follows me. It snaps at me, letting out a whir and it hisses. I begin to run faster- as fast as I possibly can. I jump over fallen pieces of the Maze walls; I tumble down steep inclines; I jump up to different levels of the Maze. It still follows me. I feel my body being jerked back and my legs buckle. My shirt is pinned to the concrete and I feel the Griever's stinger land next to my head. I feel the green slime drop into my face and I practically claw at my face to get it off and I jerk my body about, struggling to get away. I grab something- I'm not sure what it is at all- but I know its sharp and I ram it into the Griever's body. It lets out an ear shattering shriek and it distracts it enough for me to roll out from underneath it and I feel my shirt rip, tearing because it had pinned me with its legs. I get to my feet, running to jump up on a straight in the Maze. I have a head start on the Griever, propelling myself faster and faster. Then, I feel the concrete begin to give way and I scream, skidding to a stop. I look down into a dark pit, watching as the concrete crumbling around my feet. I turn, thinking of running another way when the Griever bounds up, screaming. My eyes jerk from the Griever to the other side of the ledge to see a wall tangled with vines and I turn to see the Griever has already began to run. Then, on sheer instinct, I take a few steps back and jump, let out a scream of fear when I think I'm don't close enough to the wall but I finally catch onto some vines, the Griever propelling its body across the abyss. I scuttle up the vines and when I think it's over for me I watch as the Griever falls into the dark pit, relief washing across me as I climb the vines to the top of the ledge of the other side.

"Lizzie!" It's Gally. When I peek my head over the rocks I see him coming. He's bloodied but in good shape. As I pull myself up the walls Gally reaches down, pulling me the rest of the way up. We sit in the ledge for a second, struggling to breathe. "You okay, Liz'?"

I nod. "I'm fine." My eyes flicker to Gally and I can see he's conflicted. I'm still angry with the way he treated me and what had had done, but some of that anger has faded. "How much longer until morning, Gally?"

"A long time," Gally says. He lifts me to my feet, settling me. As we begin to set off I look over at him. He's not wroth, but he's angry. In his eyes I can tell he blames me for something. He blames me for everything.

…

"It's Lizzie! Gally!" It's Chuck's voices through the opening Maze doors.

I cling tightly to Gally, he the same to me. I see the faces of many happy boys in the Glade- Newt, Minho, Clint, Jeff, Zart, Chuck… It's a never ending line of happy boys but Thomas is the only who isn't celebrating. His eyes are dark and angry- his mouth is set into a line.

Gally and I disengage from one another and I stagger to Thomas. I hold my arms out and he just shakes his head. Instead of coming to me he turns his back to me, walking back to the Homestead. I stare in disbelief at him, collapsing to the ground. I'm not sure which hurts more- the emotional pain for the pain that spreads throughout my body at this moment.

"It's okay, love." The voice belongs to Newt. I feel him gather me in his arms, helping me stand. "Lizzie, he's just upset. Elizabeth, love?" I turn into Newt's arms, hiding my face in his chest. He holds me up, swaying side to side calmly. "He'll come around, I promise."

From behind I hear Minho. "It's alright. He'll come around later. Let's go get you settled down." I feel Minho's arms scoop me up. His arms tighten on me when I begin to shake and I hide my head in his shirt. "Shh, it's okay, Greenbean. Don't cry…"

It was then that I felt like all of this was my fault. Everything about this damn place is my fault. I put them here; I made this hell. I'm living in it as my punishment. "It's my fault. Everything's my fault."

"No; no; no… Lizzie, it's okay," Minho says. He turns to Newt and the two of them sit on the ground, most of the boys forming a circle around me. The others stand back and watch timidly or tend to Gally who is completely unconscious.

Newt smiles gently, capturing my face in his hands. "No, Lizzie, it isn't. If anything I'm proud of you- you made it. I'm not mad at you- none of us are. We were scared. We're still scared." He looks down at me, his eyes gentle then they turn fearful. "What happened to your face, Lizzie? Why are you so bloodied up?"

I don't want to tell them Gally hit me. If they do it'll be the end of him. I can't subject him to a night like that in the Maze where I know he won't make it again. "I fell. One of the Grievers chased me and I fell and…"

"Shh; it's okay," Newt says. "I'll get Alby over here to help me patch you up while Jeff and Clint check Gally out." The boy begins calling Alby over and the dark skinned boy begins to set to work on me. I remain in Minho's arms and Newt holds my hand. As I lay there I watch my vision blur, my body beginning to fall slack. The last thing I vividly remember is Minho's voice telling me I'd be okay and that Thomas would come around… But for now I don't see either of those things happened.


	9. Swear

**I believe I confused some of you last chapter- for that I am very sorry. I'm getting over a very nasty case of the flu and I was half asleep when I wrote it practically. Forgive me for that and hopefully this chapter will be awesome!**

**toridw317: I'm so sorry I confused you last chapter! Hope you enjoy this one, though.**

**FinalFantasyCrazedGirl01: Hahaha! Knew it'd get you. Oh…I remember your review from a few chapters ago. Safe to say you got your wish- well, kind of.**

**GwenLjung21: Gally will get his just-desserts here in the next few chapters- don't worry about it. I hope you enjoy this chapter because I have a surprise or two thrown around in there! **

**ptl4ever419: Yes…so sad. It could get better- may get worse.**

**Iste: Yes! I totally agree with that statement!**

* * *

><p>Nighttime has taken over the Glade when I wake up. The air is unusually cold- to the point where I can see the white puff of air when I exhale. That isn't right- I know the Maze is hot always. Normally it is warm in the evenings and warm throughout the night. There's not a sound- maybe the occasional snoring boy or the sound of an animal, but not really any noise. Around our tiny overhang are several small fires that are beginning to die out, some of them already died out, just embers giving off smoke to the darkness.<p>

I shift my legs, gasping in pain at the soreness of running all through the night. When I raise my arms above my head the pain intensifies, causing my heart to pound and my jaw to clench to keep from crying out. Everything aches from my head to my toes, my muscles throbbing. My head pounds from an aching pain in the right side of my face and I tentatively touch my jaw, pain exploding through my face. I jerk my hand away, struggling into a sitting position in my hammock. I wind my blanket around my shoulders, struggling to warm myself as I look out into the Glade for any signs of a human soul. There is none…none at all. My eyes flicker to the left to see Thomas' hammock is empty, his blanket and everything left. It has been untouched since yesterday evening, signaling that he hasn't been around me any while I was out. I feel my heart sink into the depths of me, dread taking over my body once more as it had done before. I feel the pangs of pain not from the throbbing aches in my body, but guilt. I feel guilt for my brother's death; I feel guilt for not helping the Gladers. But they don't match up to the guilt of thinking that I'd leave them here- that I'd leave Thomas here. I was being so selfish. I think of what the Creators etched into my skin- the black in that would forever identify me as Subject 0579…property of WICKED. I'm truthfully wicked…

I struggle to my feet, sliding painfully into my shoes. I hold my thin blanket around me, shivering at the odd weather and the pain it brings me. I begin the painful trek across the Glade, searching for Thomas. I knew he wouldn't be with the other boys asleep- if I knew Thomas, he'd be off by himself somewhere. I suppose he could be in the Medjack's building or he's off somewhere else- maybe in the Deadheads. Wherever- I need to find him and fast. As I practically hobble through the Glade I hear the Maze shifting and changing, making new patterns and all. Moments later it falls silent once more. The blissful silence lasts only a short time before I hear familiar whizzing, groaning, and whirring from the midst of the Maze. I stop in my tracks, my heart missing beats as I use a dilapidated building to support my exhausted body that way the ground doesn't swivel towards my face. I squeeze my eyes closed, body shaking at the memory of Ben's body being ripped apart. I remember all of the blood that came out of him- that the Griever tore him limb from limb, ripping his insides out- I remember it all in detail. The Grievers in the Maze let out angry screams- loud ones. They threw their bodies at the Maze walls, angry for something. Angry because Gally and I eluded them…

"Thomas!" I call out. My voice is hoarse but it seems loud enough. I'm terrified- afraid they'll get in. I'm afraid that if and when they do, they'll do away with the lot of us. They'll kill us…murder us. They eat us just like they did Ben. "Thom! Tommy!"

I watch in the dim moonlight as the walls shake, the concrete crumbling. Oh, klunk, they'll crumble away until the Grievers get through. They'll break in and pick us off one by one. In my delirium I feel arms catch me, my body descending into somebody's arms. "Elizabeth?! Lizzie." Warm arms envelope me, hiding me away against warm skin and in the depths of another blanket. "Lizzie, baby, it's okay."

Thomas only ever calls me baby. I look up to see a pair of terrified eyes staring down at me and I reach up, touching the side of Thomas' face as though he wasn't real. His thumb sweeps across my cheek and I catch him offering a grim smile. "Tommy, I'm scared. I'm scared…and…and… Thom, don't be mad at me! Please!"

"Shh; Elizabeth, it's okay. Baby, you're like ice…and how did you get all the way out here?" Thomas cradles me tightly against his chest, settling me against him. I clutch his shirt, reveling in how comforting he feels. "What's scaring you? What's going on with you?" His brown eyes bore into mine- warm brown clashing against violent blue. His expression is soft when he realizes the severity of what has gone through my mind. "Oh, Liz'… I'm not mad at you. I can't stay mad at you. But you scared me shuckless… But look at me, Liz'- swear to me you'll never do something so stupid again." Thomas' voice is muffled in my hair, shaky and ready to break. I feel tears against my head, soaking into my hair. He pulls back, looking me in the eye. "Swear to me, Elizabeth."

"I swear," I say hoarsely, not complaining when he crushes me to his body, rocking me back and forth.

As I begin to lay still I feel the tremor of a memory wrack me. Yes, a memory- I've learned not to think they were nightmares anymore. I have enough proof on my body to know that whatever comes to my mind is a memory.

…

"_Elizabeth, swear to me you'll watch out for Jonathan." I watch in horror as my sister stalks towards the door. She's just a year older than me and Jon but she is wiser than me. She's bigger- she's stronger. Just the mere age of eight she's got Jonathan and me beat._

_I stare up at her. Jonathan…he's not in his right mind. Since birth something has been wrong with him I haven't been able to comprehend. "No! Teresa, please! I can't do this without you!" I stare at my sister with terrified eyes, clinging to her hand, begging her not to go. "Teresa!" My sister and I…we're not too different. Besides my head full of red hair and the short stature Teresa and I favor a lot. "Don't leave me here! What about the Bad People? What if I can't keep hold of Jonathan's spells? Teresa, please!"_

_My sister whirls around, staring at me with big blue eyes. "Elizabeth, I'm going out to find help. I'll be back, I promise."_

"_Mom and Daddy said that," I say bitterly. "You're going to leave me and Jonathan like they left us three."_

"_I'm not leaving you, Lizzie!" Teresa screams. "I'm going to find us help. Trust me, I'd take you with me- I'd take Jon, too. But I can't risk him having a spell while we're out there. We'll attract more of the Bad People than necessary."_

_I shake my head. "I can't do this without you, Tess. Teresa…please."_

"_I'm coming back. Hold down the fort here," Teresa says. "I'll be back, Elizabeth." She squeezes my hand tightly in hers, smiling shakily. "I'll be back, Elizabeth. Now, swear to me that you'll watch out for Jonathan. Promise me you'll keep him safe. I know that I'm putting off a lot on you right now, but I don't have a choice. Keep him safe. Swear it to me."_

"_I swear, Teresa," I say, my voice a whisper._

_I stare down at the floor, squeezing Teresa's hand. "Swear to me that you'll come back, Teresa."_

_My sister envelops me into a bone-crushing hug, kissing my forehead. "I swear, Elizabeth."_

…

Then, when I come out of the memory, I realize one thing: Teresa never came back.

…

When I wake again it is late morning. People are just beginning to crawl out of their beds, stretching and yawning. I can hear their worried whispers of me and Gally. Some of them sound sympathetic- others sound downright like shucks. I shift in my hammock, still feeling pain creep up my legs. The entire left side of my face throbs, making my forehead pound and my jaw ache. My eyes flicker over when I finally feel a hand in mine to see Thomas resting quietly against the rough canvas of his hammock. He looks angry, his jaw squared into a tight lock, his lips a line of anger. I frown, the movement sending my jaw into a throbbing frenzy.

"What the matter?" Thomas asks. I expected his voice to be rough, but it is indeed soft, seeping with sweetness for me. "Is something bothering you, Lizzie?" He presses his lips against my knuckles, offering a smile.

I just turn up the corners of my lips, the struggle to smile seeming not worth it to be in pain most of the day. Thomas leans over, drawing me into a kiss. His kiss is soft and gentle- his fingers graze my face, not paining me. I pull back, leaning my forehead against his. "I'm fine, Thom." I smile grimly, remembering Teresa. "Tommy, I know I should be swearing you this, but swear to me you'll never leave me. Swear you'll never leave me."

Thomas frowns. "What's brought this up?"

"Swear it," I say.

"I swear," Thomas says. Then, he leans in, sealing it with a kiss. He pulls back, pushing back my hair from my eyes. His eyes search mine and he frowns. "What's bothering you so much, baby? Was it a bad dream? Was it about last night?"

I shrug. "You could say it was a dream."

Thomas sighs. He leans over, pressing his lips against my shoulder. He shudders, his warm lips heating my cold skin. "It'll all be fine. What do you remember, Lizzie? Was it something about those WICKED goons? The Bad People, maybe?"

"I'm not sure how to explain," I say quietly.

"Take your time, baby. I'm all ears." He gives me a chaste kiss. "Think you can walk, Lizzie? You've got a crowd of people that wants to see you." His brown eyes flicker towards the group of swarming boys, their eyes wide and excited. In the crowd I see Newt who looks like he's ready to perform an acrobatic show for me, his brown eyes shining.

I nod, pushing myself into a standing position and regret it. Thomas' arms wind around my waist. "Baby steps, Elizabeth." I ignore him, walking as quickly as my legs will allow me right into the sea of boys who crowd me like I'm a long lost friend of theirs. Zart, Alby, Frypan, Chuck…their faces are endless, their names forgotten as they draw me in for hugs and threats of what is to come if I pull a stunt like that again.

Newt claims me, holding me tightly to him. I draw myself closer to the boy, listening to the rapid sound of his heartbeat. "Lizzie, I'll shucking kill you myself if you ever do anything like that again." Newt pulls back, his brown eyes wide. "Don't make me feel like that again, love." I smile bitterly before his draws me in for another hug, intending not to let go. He places his lips next to my ear, his voice low for only the two of us to hear. _"I don't like feeling like that- I don't want to hear you like that. Why would you do something so stupid, Lizzie? Why would you do that when you have a Maze full of shanks who adore you? Why would you leave me here when I love you so bloody much?"_

I gaze up at him, break taken away. Newt smiles shakily, pressing his lips against my forehead. He pulls back, his eyes flickering to my cheek. I seen the bruise- it has taken the form of five distinct finger-shaped marks, still welted. I turn from him, attacked by the next boy- Minho. My precious, idiotic Minho.

"I'll kick your shucking rear if you step out there into that Maze again," Minho threatens. His dark eyes are serious, his body shaking. "You were in way over your head on that shuck stunt. Now, Shank, you must atone for your sin!" His eyes turn from serious to light and playful. "Does Mr. Minho get a kiss?" He puckers his lips and I roll my eyes, reaching up on my tip-toes and kiss his cheek.

Minho releases me, spinning about, arms in the air. "I've been shucked and gone to heaven!" He says it in a sing-song voice, making me laugh as I watch him stumble off, swarmed by a strong man- none other than Alby himself. His eyes are serious and but loving- I can see he wears authority but also shows a gentleness about him. When he pulls back he grasps my chin, making me look up at him. The pain of my left side almost makes me gasp. "That was a shuck move. Listen to me; I understand you're goin' through a lot of grief right now. But don't kill yourself for it. Don't abandon us. Let me tell you somethin' else; do not ever let me catch you near those Maze walls again. You're in deep enough klunk as it is. Have I made myself clear, Lizzie?"

I nod, released by Alby. He pats my cheek, turning towards Minho who is still doing a little dance in his walk. I tear my gaze from him, looking back to Newt who is studying me over carefully, his eyes unsure- they hold a distrusting look that unsettles me. I smile gently, tearing my gaze from him to be hugged by Chuck. For such a little boy he's strong- very strong.

"I don't remember anything- I lost whatever I had from my old life. Don't make me lose what I have." Chuck's voice is a strangled cry. He longs for somebody to understand him- to love him. When I look at Chuck I see Jonathan in him. I'll never be able to pin what reminds me of my brother- maybe it is the child-like innocence. Perhaps it is the sparkle in his eyes that reminds me so deeply of Jonathan.

I run my fingers through Chuck's sandy blonde curls. When I disengage the boy from my body I offer a shaky smile. "You're not going to, Chuckle. You have a family here in the Glade. You can be my little brother and Thomas can be your idiotic brother-in-law. Newt can be the Glade Mother and Alby can be the annoying step-dad nobody likes."

I watch in pleasure as Chuck laughs, drying tears from his eyes. "Then Minho can be our stupid big brother and…and…" I trail off, images flashing in my head of Jonathan and Teresa. It makes me feel awful because I can't remember them but I know I had them. I look back up at Chuck, smiling. "But I'm not leaving you, kiddo."

Chuck nods and I hug him tightly to me once more before he turns back. He's caught by Alby who winks at me as though saying I've done a job well done. I salute him, earning a laugh before I turn back to Thomas. The boy simply smiles. I walk quietly to him and he takes me into his arms, holding me against his body.

"Thomas?" I ask.

"Yes?"

I look up at him, studying him over. "Tell me why you love me."

"I've come to the conclusion I don't know why," Thomas says. "But I do know that I do love you. I've known I loved you for a long time- since that one night I don't know how long ago. I fall in love with you again every day."

I chuckle. "You're a total cheeseball."

Thomas snickers, bringing his lips to mine. His arms wind themselves around my waist, holding me tighter and tighter to his skinny body. "Let me show you how much I love you," Thomas says. His eyes are alive- gleaming with love and wonder and all the above. He takes my hand, tugging me towards a secluded part of the Glade gently. Against the corner of the southwestern wall is a fair-sized place made of sturdy wood and held together by twine tied tightly to form a little hit. Together we walk inside, the tiny hut large inside. It has a chair and a table- a tiny nightstand next to a bed made cleverly from strong wood and cushioned with extra pillows and blankets…much more comfortable than the hammocks, it seems.

Then Thomas steals me again, lips crushing mine with such intensity that it surprises me. I lock my arms tightly around the boy, running my fingers slowly through his hair. I feel him open his mouth, deepening the kiss, asking for permission to enter. I allow him it, holding him just as tightly as I had the night when I first discovered I loved him.

Thomas knocks us down onto the bed, holding me tightly to him. His hands wonder down until they reach my hips, holding me tightly against him. His hands play with the ends of my shirt, making me laugh when he exposes my stomach. I pull back from him, staring up at him from my place underneath his body.

"Elizabeth, are you sure?" Thomas asks. "We can stop if you think…"

I place my lips against his, silencing him. "I swear…you talk too much."

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><p><strong>Hope you guys liked this chapter. I tried to make it a bit lighter than the last few chapters I've written. I know that Thomas doesn't seem angry- out of sorts, yes. Angry- no. I believe they deserve some time together! Also…surprised about Teresa, eh? <strong>

**Here in the next chapter or two we'll have two surprises. Guess what they are and I'll give you cyber cookies!**

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	10. Trigger

**ptl4ever419: Yes- very interesting.**

**FinalFantasyCrazedGirl01: Thanks!**

**mariihamdeh: Thank you! I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**Java60072: Ahh…I suppose Newt will get over her fast enough. Anyways, hope you enjoy this chapter and thanks for reading!**

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><p>"You think that Newt and Minho will find out we participated in their 'Activity?'" I ask quietly, hiding myself beneath the blankets of my bed. I stare up at Thomas with amused eyes, chuckling when his eyes bug out and his face reddens. "Kidding, Tommy, kidding!"<p>

Thomas chuckles. He dips down, pressing a kiss to my lips, combing his fingers gently through my hair. What we had done together was…well- it went up and above amazing. I can't remember feeling the way he made me feel. I can't remember my body ever feeling so alive. My body was a burning wire; a new sensation of touch was given to me as he had run his hands over every inch of me. The rest of it…I'm not sure how to describe. "So what if they do?" Thomas kisses my bare shoulder, smiling a wild smile. "I wouldn't care. You shouldn't care…"

I laugh gently, staring up at Thomas in wonder until he places his lips on mine again. I feel him smile against my lips, making me break away in giggles. Thomas sighs, staring down at me. His warm brown eyes take me in as if they haven't ever seen me before. Each time he looks at me I see a new appreciation. Then he nestles down behind me, winding his arms around me tightly, bringing me to his body. I feel the warmth of his skin against mine, warming my tiny body. "I wonder if we did this before…"

"If we did, I don't know," I say. "If we did I'm sure it was amazing." My eyes flicker back to Thomas who is staring at me like a blind man first seeing the beauty of the world. He looks mesmerized, his brown eyes sparkling with love. Staring at him I feel complete- everything feels alright. But something's missing between us. Something I'm sure that was important to the two of us. "Thom?"

Thomas props himself up on an elbow, eyes showing some sort of wonder. "Yes, Lizzie?"

"Don't you feel like somebody is missing?" I ask. I feel like a lot of people are missing. My brother and sister- Jonathan and Teresa. They're gone- I know they'll never be back. Should I cling to hope that Teresa is out there? Maybe she died like Jon had- at the hands of those monsters. My parents are missing. Friends are out of the picture. Fragments of my life are out there in the open… There are a lot of things missing, but this I can't shake. Something essential to me and Thomas. Something I know is important to us and something I know we both loved. Who could that person be?

Thomas thinks thoughtfully for a few moments, his eyes showing some kind of knowing emotion. "Somebody is gone… Maybe we're remembering family? Could that be coming to your mind, Lizzie? I know that you've been remembering Jonathan. Somebody else, perhaps?"

"I've been having dreams about a sister…my sister," I say quietly.

Thomas frowns. "Is that what has you so upset?"

I shake my head. "Not entirely; I'm still struggling with the Maze. But I remember that in my memory my sister was leaving me and Jonathan behind to find help. That Bad People were getting worse…I think. I was begging and pleading and she swore she'd come back. Teresa said she'd come back but she never came."

"I see," Thomas says. Thomas falls silent, the wheels inside his head turning, big brown eyes a sea of emotion. "Lizzie, I keep remembering somebody named Alex. I can't pinpoint who the person is."

"Maybe it was your sister's name. It could have belonged to one of your parents, too," I reply. I lay there, dwelling on the name Alex. I search my mind for the name, trying to conjure up the name for any familiarity. No- there's nothing… I can't remember. I frown, defeated. Why can't I remember the one person who seems so important to me and Thomas? Could that person be named Alex? Could it have been another little brother or sister? Perhaps a parent or caregiver?"

Thomas smiles warmly. "Don't think too hard about it, Lizzie. You'll get upset."

"I can't help it…just… Ugh!" I throw my arms over my head, hiding my face. Thomas chuckles, wrestling my arms away from my face, placing a warm kiss to my lips. When he pulls back his eyes flicker to the bruise on my cheek. He places his hand on it, his fingers touching the five distinct finger marks that Gally had caused.

"Elizabeth, tell me what really caused this bruise," Thomas says. "Telling me the truth now would spare us both a lot of heartache later. You came back from the Maze with it, Liz'. The only person in there with you was Gally. Elizabeth, tell me now, did he hit you?" I shake my head, turning over to face him once more. He kisses the bruise softly, stroking the dark blue bruise and the angry red welt. "Did Gally hit you? That's all I want to know." His voice is so soft and sickly sweet it scares me. In the back of my mind I remember the voice he uses now. I know later, when he knew, he did something bad. But how can I lie to him now when he knows?

I nod. "He hit me. Backhanded me so hard that it had split my lip and knocked me down."

"That's all I wanted to know," Thomas says lightly. He then bends down, locking his lips with mine. When he pulls back he once again strokes the bruise. "I'd never do anything like that to you. I couldn't ever hurt you like that."

I smile shakily. "I know."

"Don't worry about it," Thomas says. He presses a kiss against my bare shoulder, winking playfully at me, making me snicker. "C'mon, let's get out clothes and stuff on… I highly doubt that the boys will enjoy seeing us naked…"

I roll my eyes. "Maybe me…not you."

"The only downside to not being a girl," Thomas jokes. I push him playfully and he laughs, the two of us getting back into our clothes quickly and efficiently. Just as I'm pulling my shirt over my head the door is flung open and I see Minho standing in the doorway, his eyes bugging out of his head, face red.

I gulp, feeling my face redden. Thomas coughs from the back, stepping into his denim pants. "This isn't what it looks like," Thomas says quietly.

"Oh shuck me," Minho whines. "You guys were missing for a long while so I figured that I'd come looking for you. And I find this! You two were messing around, weren't you! How unfaithful of you, Elizabeth!'

"Unfaithful, huh?" I ask.

Minho nods. "Why can't I get some but Thomas can?"

"I'm not having this conversation, Minho," I say, tying my mess of red hair into a ponytail. "Go get some from somebody else."

Thomas stands back, laughing at the slant-eyed boy. Minho runs in, throwing me over his shoulder. "But I want you! I guess if I can't have you nobody can!" Then, he turns on his heel, running out of my hut, laughing as he dashes with me to the Homestead, Thomas on his heels, laughing all the while.

...

"Yes, Minho, we were "messing around," but stop acting like we're a couple of horny teenagers! At least we had the decency to not do it in the open!' I argue. The boy stands between me and Thomas. He's holding my hand like I'm a little kid. "'Inho, everybody does the 'Activity' sometime! Stop acting like I've committed a crime against nature!"

Minho scoffs. "I'm going to make you sleep in-between me and Newt now. You dirty little…"

"Minho, shut up! I don't want to discuss this topic!"

"I bet you liked it."

"Minho!"

"Elizabeth!"

I bend Minho's fingers backwards, hearing him yelp. "My sex life doesn't concern you."

Minho smiles smugly. "I'm telling Newt."

"You wouldn't dare, you stupid slinthead," I say- practically a growl. "'Inho, stop! They'll think that I'm some kind of pleasure-machine! C'mon, have some common decency!"

"I don't have any decency," Minho says. Then he begins running, yelling Newt's name. "Newt! Newt! Guess what I caught our Lizzie and the Greenie doing! Ohhh…Neeewwwttt!" I scatter after him, screaming his name, screaming profanities at the top of my lungs to block his words out. When I reach him there are two shrieks here in the Glade- loud, angry ones at that. I turn to Minho in confusion and he shakes his head, motioning for Thomas to follow him.

Minho nods at me. "You stay where you are. Fights here are usually nasty and I don't want you getting in the middle of one. You'll get beat up. So, you stay here until Tommy Boy or myself comes to get you." Before I can put up an argument they're both scattering towards the fighting boys, ready to break them up. Me, being my usual self, run with the crowd of boys…I mean when do I listen well at all? I break through the trees, the horrifying images of Ben attacking me filling my head. I can still feel each blow and the pain he delivered.

I push through a crowd of boys, stopping when I realize I'm next to Chuck. I look out to see Thomas, Newt, and Alby separating two boys. I'd expect Newt to be helping them, but he's the one fighting. He's angry, his body shaking with the kind of rage I know few people possess. Blood dribbles from his nose, staining his shirt- his left eye is blackened as a result of the one who was obviously fighting. He's held back by Minho and Thomas, the two boys wrestling him off of Gally who is pinned by Alby and three other boys.

"Newt! What the shuck?!" I scream. I run towards the struggling boy, dropping down in front of him. I brush back his devilished hair, taking in the damage done to him. His nose looks fractured; his left eye is dark blue and his right is well on its way to being the same shade. "What the shuck was that for?"

Newt spits out blood- courtesy of a busted lip. "He hit you. Gally hit you." His voice is raging and stony in some sort of dark way. Newt breathes in deeply, his breathing off and shaky. In his eyes I see raw anger and rage. As I cradle his face I look up to Thomas who is seething- he wanted to get to Gally first, of course. Minho looks the same right about now, since he discovered this revelation.

"Well, guess what, it was stupid to go after him! What I got in that Maze, I deserved," I hiss, taking a rag from my jeans pocket and hold it to his nose. "I was acting like a delinquent. He slapped some sense into me, no doubt."

Thomas and Minho's voice pipes in quickly to the conversation. "Elizabeth, no doubt what you did was stupid, but it's a pretty big shucking deal when somebody slaps the klunk out of you." That's Minho arguing against me- he sounds sorely pissed, too.

"Elizabeth, I don't take it lightly when somebody goes beatin' on my girl," Thomas says. "I would have above and beyond _barbaric _had I gotten a hold of the slinthead. What Newt's done is only a fraction of the klunk I would have raised in this damn Glade."

I glare at the two of them. "This doesn't involve you."

"Like klunk it doesn't!" Thomas says loudly.

"I'll deal with you later," I practically growl. Thomas grits his teeth in irritation, brown eyes fuming when I tear my gaze from him, looking at Newt who is visibly shaking. "I'll deal with you later as well. C'mon, let's get you to the MedJacks…"

Newt pushes me away. "No. I can take care of myself. I'll take care of you, too, if need be." As he begins walking away something clicks with him. "Another think, love: stay away from Gally."

"What happened between us was personal," I snap. "It's my problem."

Newt laughs. "Guess what, love? It's my problem now, too."

I stare at him as he walks away, fuming, clutching my hands into fists. I look at Gally who is beaten and bloodied. I can only imagine what'll happen now that they've found out he hit me. Blood soaks his shirt- a mix of his and Newt's. His fists are swollen and his face is the size and color of the Garden's large tomatoes.

"Elizabeth," Thomas says. His voice is demanding- not soft like it had been just a while earlier.

I turn to him. "I said it wasn't a big deal. Leave it alone, Thomas." I walk towards Gally, helping Alby assess the damage done by Newt. I feel Thomas pull me away and I turn, slapping at his hands. "I don't know who the hell you think you are today, Thomas!"

"I don't want you around him!"

"Do I look like I care?!"

"What Newt gave him and whatever follows will be beyond good enough for him. He hit you, Elizabeth, don't you get it? Doesn't that jar something in your mind? Did he slap you hard enough that it knocked some sense out of you?"

"You're being a dick!" I scream.

"I'll show you how big of one I can be, then!" Thomas fires back, his voice equally as loud if not louder.

"Stop screaming at me!"

"Fine then! If you're stupid enough to stay around him then be my guest. Maybe if he hits you again you'll see!" Thomas turn around, stomping off. I feel my throat become swollen and when Alby begins to ask me if I'm okay I feel the lump in my throat dissolve into tears. As we begin to walk Gally to the MedJacks I remember a screaming man and pains along my body.

_A drunken man hitting a small boy with a leather belt._

…

_A brown haired girl-Teresa-jumping in front of a fist that was meant for me._

…

_A man holding a woman up against a wall, her face bruised._

…

"Lizzie, are you okay?" Clint asks. I realize we've been met halfway to the Med Hut, Jeff and Alby lugging Gally off.

I stare up at the MedJack, sniffling lightly. I begin scrubbing at my eyes, ridding my eyes of the tears that come back only to take dominance of my vision again. I can't erase my memory of the screaming man who had beaten us…Jonathan, Teresa, me…and my mother. Why…why did the first image of my mother have to be a bad one? Why couldn't I see her laughing or smiling?

Clint pulls me off to the side gently, looking down at me with a gentle expression. "I heard you and Thomas back there. I know that has to bother you, but why do you look so scared? Is Thomas bothering you, Greenie Girl?" His voice hardens at the end of the sentence, his voice cold.

"No!" I say. With each word I find myself more and more upset. "Thomas didn't… Why do I keep crying, Clint? I don't want to be a shucking crybaby all the time!"

The MedJack sighs. "I've noticed that we cry when we're more frustrated than upset, Greenie Girl. Seems like you've got a lot on your mind… You talked about it with anybody?" He puts a gentle hand on my shoulder, smiling a toothy smile.

I shake my head. "I haven't talked about it. I've told Thomas select things. Then there's Newt, Alby, Minho, Chuck… Just…don't know…how to day it." I mentally curse myself for my fragmented language, finding myself crying a little bit harder.

Clint nods. "Well, let's go get you something to drink. It'll calm you down a little bit. Then we're going to talk about what's bothering you so bad. Kapeesh?"

I give a weak chuckle. "Kapeesh," I say weakly.

"That's my Greenie Girl," Clint says, leading me off towards the kitchen where he doesn't have to ask for a cup of water. Frypan is already there, holding out a cup. He gives me a hug and pats my back before sending me off with the MedJack.

…

Clint nods. "That's deep, Greenie Girl."

I told him that horrifying memory that wracked my mind when Thomas had screamed at me. In my mind I had described the man that had screamed and hurt us. It was a man with brown hair and green eyes. They were filled with hate…he smelled like alcohol. I told him when I thought about it too hard I could feel him hitting me.

"I don't understand," I say. "Why…why was he abusing us? Why wasn't he the man I remembered the first time? Why the woman, too? I remembered a man with red hair. I remembered a woman with brown. They were different? Why do I remember all this? Why was Thomas a trigger?" I ramble on with questions, spouting off to Clint more and more until I get upset again and he makes me go silent, forcing me to drink another cup of water Frypan brought by.

"There was a boy here about six months before you- he got picked off in the Maze. He remembered stuff just like you. Shuck, he woke up screamin' at night for somebody to not hit him- klunking scared us! Pulled him off to the side, asked him what he saw. There was a woman beating him, he had said. Certain things triggered the reaction- sight of a blade. A strip of leather… He got punched in the face once. All sparked the memories… He described new people later on- a new set of people. Called them Mom and Dad… What is the word I'm looking for?" Clint trails off, his eyebrow furrowing in concentration. "Adopted! Yes, he was adopted by another family."

"You're saying that because my first set of parents was unstable so I got new ones?" I ask, sniffling. I take a sip of water per his instructions.

Clint nods. "Yep; but, now, onto other things…yelling triggered you. Scared you, didn't it?"

I nod weakly. "I still feel like I can feel him hitting me. I can't breathe."

"Hey, it's okay. Just a little panic attack- it'll pass in a minute," Clint says. He smiles reassuringly. "I'll try to talk about this with Tommy Boy later- Newt, too. Maybe Minho and Alby." He falls silent before opening his mouth to speak once more minutes later. "Hey, that was great back there, Greenie Girl."

"What was? Me making a fool of myself?" I ask.

"Hey, that's what gets you upset," Clint says. "Stop being negative. Anyways, it was great what you did- standing up for Gally. Not many people do that, you know."

I struggle to smile. "I couldn't let them ridicule him. Yes, he wronged me in some ways. In others, no. I didn't deserve to be hit that hard. I did deserve to be smacked around a little because I was being stupid. So stupid… But I didn't want to subject him to the Maze again. I don't want him to be subject to the Grievers. He won't make it again!"

"Shh; calm down, Lizzie. I can't blame you, but you'd have to talk to Alby about that." He falls silent once more, making me become rigid- then, Clint laughs. "I think we all need to be smacked around a little."

I join in with him, Clint talking easily and lightly after the laughter fades. He asks questions and I answer them- create small talk to take my mind off of Thomas and the horrors that invade my mind. He's good at distracting- up until Jeff calls him because they need to set Newt's nose.

"Don't think about anything bad. Think about whatever girls like to think about," Clint demands, speeding off to help Jeff. As I sit against a tree stump and sip my water, I struggle to divert my mind to happier memories, but they slip away into the scary images of Thomas screaming and then what his scream triggers.


	11. My Only Sunshine

**I hope you guys like this chapter- you're in for a treat. For the sake of this story let's say that the Gladers have been in the Glade for the count of one year. It'll help out with what has happened and it'll make more sense. Anyways…enjoy this chapter!**

**FinalFantasyCrazedGirl01: Sorry that the chapter made you sad… Well, things might get a bit sadder. But in any sense I can't wait until Lizzie's and Teresa's reunion. It'll be interesting to see these two sister reunited.**

**GwenLjung21: Ahh…I think you'll have your fair share of questions this chapter. I think that I even surprised myself writing it if I can say that. But I can't wait for the sisters' reunion and some things will be shed with light for you. I think you'll be surprised about Alex, though. **

**Guest: I'm so happy you like this! Keep reading!**

**Java 70062: Thanks! I hope that you enjoy this story!**

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><p>I could hear one of the boys directing the others away. I choose to believe that person is Clint, but I can't focus hard enough to recognize the voice. Either way he adverts them away from me, keeping me nestled in the trees to myself. I'm glad he does in a certain way. He gives me time to calm down and all; I can think and sort myself out some but very little; I can think about what each image that plays in my head means. The memories of the abusive man ceased, but new ones attacked. Ones that confused me- ones that were too sweet to be true.<p>

…

_Thomas sitting in the floor, wooden parts scattered about and a mattress propped up on the wall. He held a screwdriver between his teeth, hitting the floor of what used to be his room with a wrench. I was leaning against the wall, watching as he read a booklet._

"_These instructions are in German! Damn it, woman, read them for me!"_

_That made me laugh harder. It made him laugh harder, too. So hard we raced each other to our bathroom. Needless to say even though I had to hop to the bathroom I won and he had to change clothing._

…

_Chuck and I were walking. In his hands was a small white blanket bound with a bow. He was smiling and laughing, eyes lit up like the sun._

…

They were better- so much better. But how could they be true? It made me sick, sitting there, the memories more painful to remember because the love-struck smiles and the bright eyes were gone. Everything that was is crumbling apart before me. I'm losing Thomas over stupid stuff- I thought we were perfect before, but our relationship was strained in certain ways. Me running out into the Maze really screwed us over. The two of us arguing put a rift between us that made me want to scream. I'm so afraid we'd wind up so jacked up we'll call it quits and my heart breaks at the thought of not having Thomas. It makes my stomach churn and envisioning a future without him is fuzzy and off. I couldn't ever leave him. I can't remember much of my past without Thomas being there- I don't want to. My past seems pretty bleak with being left by my older sister and my brother dying. My parents left us alone to survive; another set of parents- selectively a man- was abusive. Just thinking about him makes me gag, placing my cup aside, strangling on the water I already have in my mouth. I remember him- he was a large man…probably ravaged by the alcohol judging by how he rapidly lost weight, but he gained it back. I'm sure he was handsome at a point in time, but he let himself waste away. So he was a big man with salt and pepper hair; his face was pinched in and sharp. His eyes- my eyes- were blue and they were filled with rage. He hated me; he hated Teresa; he hated Jon.

…

_I heard a crashing sound- Teresa must have heard it to because she jumps out of her room, terrified. She's six, Jon and I are five. Oh God…Jonathan. Where's Jon? "Elizabeth, where's Jon? I thought he was with you."_

"_No…I thought he was with you," I say meekly. We take responsibility for Jonathan. He does things he can't help…things we know are on accident. "Teresa, please tell me Daddy isn't home. Tessa!"_

_Teresa gulps. We're so young but we view the world with an adult point of view. "Hurry! Let's try to see if we can get there fast enough. If he broke something we'll try to…" Her voice is cut off by a scream and we know Dad's home. He's drunk again. He got Jonathan. I scatter down the hall, hoping to race down the stairs to get to Jonathan. He's my little brother…even if it is by three minutes he's my baby brother. Mom talks about a twin bond or whatever…I laughed- thought it was cute. But I couldn't believe now that she's right. I feel his pain._

"_You know he doesn't hurt Jon as bad as us," Teresa says. She stops me from running, the two of us sinking down to the floor. "He'll put you in the hospital like last time, Lizzie." She's sobbing, her body shaking._

_I can't talk. I'm too stunned. I just wither in Teresa's arms, shaking, allowing her to help me up. Together we talk to her room, curling up on her bed, blocking out screams. Jonathan's have stopped, but Mom's have started. Somewhere in the madness a body squeezes in between ours and we realize it's Jonathan. _

_Jonathan clutches my hand. "I was trying to get a cookie… Dad scared me and I knocked the jar off on accident. I swear, Lizzie, I swear!" He's crying and shaking and sobbing, making me do the same, Teresa following._

…

"Lizzie, you're okay. Starting counting backwards with me… _One hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight…" _The voice is Alby's. He's snapping his fingers to call my attention; he tries to pry my locked grip from around my knees, trying to make me come out of the shell I've curled myself into. "What bad man is there? Liz', did he do something to you?"

I open my mouth to speak, but I lose my words. I'm too shaken to speak. Too terrified for Jonathan, Teresa, and myself. I shakily reach out, taking Alby's outstretched hands. They're warm but calloused like the man's hands. I almost jerk away, shuddering violently, but I let him help me up. I blink cautiously as though not to give way to tears but they never come. I believe I have no more to give. I breathe in, my chest expanding painfully.

"How come everything's my fault?" I ask.

Alby looks back at me. His dark eyes are pained. "Lizzie, what the shuck are you talking about?"

I shake my head. He'd never understand. Alby would never get it. In his mind he's forgotten everything and I don't want to remember a thing. I don't think that the memories of me and Thomas are worth the pain of others. Just from that horrific memory I could feel certain places on my body ache. I felt like I had a headache and I'm sure that with it coming on, it won't go away. In my mind I can see a broken girl with red hair with dark bruises and red gashes- I can see blood. _Why…why do I have to remember? Why are they making me remember? _

"You're freezing," Alby says. "You've been acting out of sorts lately. It there anything you want to tell me, Lizzie?"

"You wouldn't understand," I say.

Alby nods. "Oh… Lizzie, go back to yours. Sort yourself out…calm down. You need anything tell one of us. Hey, you're not alone. We've all had a pretty bad day, huh? I'll give us the rest of the day off in the Glade… I think we're all in need of a break."

I nod. The tall boy hugs me tightly and I hug him back. When he releases me I work my way back to my hut, sick to my stomach and a headache has already taken me over. I can't believe that I'd remember something so horrific…so utterly inhumane. When I think I don't think I was a bad person- I mean shuck, I was a child. Jonathan was a child. Teresa was a child. What could have children done so wrong that somebody would beat them?

I open the door to my wooden hut, seeing that Thomas is inside. He's sitting on the bed, head held in his hands. He's breathing softly as to calm himself, body trembling with each inhale and exhale. His brown eyes flicker towards me and I feel my stomach sink deep inside me. It churns and I feel sick worse than I had walking here. I'm not sure whether it is because I'm so upset or it's because he's upset with me. Thomas scoots over on the bed for me and I join him, staying frozen in my spot when I settle myself in. I don't dare look up at him…he's reminding me so badly to that man right now. He screaming; the way he holds his head in his hands like everything has been ruined; the way he breathes to calm himself down or he'd go off the deep end. Hell, the man already achieved craziness and then beyond.

"Clint stopped me earlier today," Thomas says. His brown eyes train on me and I feel his hand rest on my back. The touch is light and trusting; it's caring and sweet. "He said that you were remembering stuff…and that screaming was the trigger. Lizzie, baby, do I scare you?" His voice threatens to break along with my heart.

"No, Thomas, you don't. When you scream, you scare me. The screaming scares me," I confide. "When you scream I see a man and he's angry and violent and he hurts us…" I trail off, struggling for air that I can't seem to keep. Thomas rubs my back gently, pulling me tightly to him. I wind my arms tightly around his torso, clinging to him. He rocks me back and forth gently in his arms, soothing my trembling body.

"It's okay," Thomas says soothingly. "I'm so sorry, Lizzie. I'm sorry for being such a dick back there. I was just angry with Gally and I didn't mean to take it all out on you. I should have saved it for him and…" He trails off and I feel tears against my hair and the back of my neck, letting me know he's crying.

This time I feel tears streaking down my face. "Stop crying!" I pull myself away from him, drying out my eyes to prevent the watered down vision I've been experiencing most of the day. "Thomas, I'm tired of the crying! I'm tired of feeling this way. I want just one half way decent, normal day here. Hell, I don't even want to be here, Thomas. I want to go home… I don't even know where home is."

Thomas reaches over and he hooks his fingers beneath my chin. His brown eyes have changed from their distressed state to a happy one. "I don't know about you but home for me is wherever you are. I want to get out of here as much as the next person, but as long as you're here, I can bare it."

I smile lightly at him, fears forgotten. "I don't think that I've ever been more in love with you than I am right now." I wind my arms tightly around him. I hide my head in the crook of his neck, eyes squeezed shut. It seems moments like this won't come often anymore so I cherish the serenity between the two of us. Deep inside of me I have a feeling that all sorts of stuff is going to happen. Something's wrong here…I can feel it in the air.

"Thomas?" I ask.

"Yeah?"

"Something feels wrong," I reply. The feeling in my gut was bothersome. Something awful was following and I could feel that we were all about to get dragged into it. When it happens I'm unsure but it's soon- very soon.

Thomas sighs. "I think we all have that feeling." He kisses my forehead gently and then shifts our bodies that way I'm laying on top of him, head on his chest. He strokes my hair gently, his voice carrying a soft tune. Listening to him his voice is soft and sweet; it's enticing and calming… It wasn't until he went through it a third time I understood what he was saying.

_You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy…when skies are grey. You'll never know dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away._

I feel my vision blur and for the third time today I find myself in tears. I don't dare look up at him, breathing as evenly as I can. The song is painfully familiar and it winds back my mind to a simpler time where I'm not here in the Maze. Where I'm not with WICKED. I'm not back at the hellhole of a home, either.

…

_It was for the third time that week…the third night in a row I had woken up with nightmares. We'd only been at the Agnes' house six months- a kind pair of people who were in their thirties. We'd been placed in their care because we were yanked out of our home. I was relieved when the police officers and a case worker had come in- arrested Dad and everything. An ambulance had gotten Mom- took her to the hospital. Dad came home in a drunken stupor and it got ugly and fast. Teresa and I were in the kitchen coloring and Jonathan was playing with action figures when he stomped in. Teresa and I grabbed Jon and we scattered like Mom had taught us. But not before he hit her…and we heard a sickening snap. I wanted to run back so badly- to help her…but I couldn't. I couldn't help. So Teresa and I grabbed Jonathan by his hands and we locked ourselves upstairs in Teresa's room, the three of us tucked away. But I didn't know she grabbed the telephone down stairs and she dialed 911. Not even five minutes later the police and all were in our drive way._

_The most disturbing part of it all was they had Mom in a blue bag. I didn't understand what had happened, but I learned quickly. Dad killed her- he killed my mother. She's been in my nightmares for weeks on end, unable to go from my mind. They stay and never leave, plaguing me always. They haunt me when I'm awake; I dream of them when I sleep._

"_Elizabeth, sweetie, are you okay?" Mrs. Agnes asks. I turn to face her, terrified. I was scared to venture out of my room at night when I was home because Daddy would be lurking the halls._

_I smile shakily at the woman. Mrs. Agnes, or Heather, as she prefers to called, pads over to me. She's a tall woman with big blue eyes like mine and Teresa's and soft brown hair. We went out to the supermarket once and people commented on how much Teresa resembled Mrs. Agnes and pointed me and Jon out, who was clinging to Mr. Agnes for dear life, on how much we resembled him. They said they couldn't tell that we were all foster kids._

_I shuffle closer, allowing Mrs. Agnes to take my hand. "Bad dream, huh?"_

_I want to laugh at her. I have nightmares each night…so why ask. "Yeah," I reply. I don't want to be a smart mouth to her. It's hard getting along here. I'm angry with her because I feel like she's trying to take place of Mom… I can't say much about Mr. Agnes- he's a great role model considering that Dad was never one. But my mother…she was the best. Nobody will be able to replace her._

"_C'mon, Elizabeth, I want to show you something," Mrs. Agnes says._

_I stare up at her, walking quietly with her down the hallway. I keep up with her on my tiny legs, following her into a room that is Mr. Agnes' study. I clutch my stuffed animal Balto to my chest, watching with interest as she pulls down a picture album. _

"_What's that, Mrs. Agnes?" I ask._

_She chuckles, settling in an arm chair big enough for the two of us. I join her, sitting beside of her, holding Balto tightly. "I have something that might help you. When I was young...maybe about your age, I went into the foster care system, too."_

_Mrs. Agnes didn't look like that kind of lady. She looked happy and not haunted. She was successful and married and happy. I wouldn't have guessed this of her. She was open with her past- talked about how loving her parents were and everything. "You were in the system?"_

"_Yes, I was. I was four when they placed me in foster care- my father wasn't a good man; my mother passed away. They took me away and I bounced around from family to family for a while," Mrs. Agnes explains. She flips through the book and it lands on a picture of a young couple holding up a four year old girl, all of them smiling. She looked like them despite her not being theirs. "This woman here is my mother; the man my father. You'll meet them soon enough. But, besides that, these two took me in. I remember the day they came and picked me up… They showed me my room and everything…I loved it. But it wasn't enough."_

_I nod in agreement with her, cuddling close to her. I think of how my mother loved us- but she wasn't that kind of mother. She cared more about making Dad happy than protecting us. She was too weak to intervene when Dad got a hold on one of us. I can remember that Dad had hit Teresa- so hard it knocked her out. She stood and watched. Dad put me in the hospital after I tried to stop him from hurting Jonathan. She stood watched when the ambulance drove away and she told the doctors it had been an accident I was forced to agree to. Mrs. Agnes cared about us, though. She stood up for us when it is needed; she wasn't scared to get her hands dirty; she picked us up when we fell down. Mom didn't do that._

"_I remember I use to wake up with screaming nightmares at night and my mother would come in my room and wake me up. We'd walk around the house, get a drink, and then she'd take me back to my room and sing me to sleep. Wanna hear the song?" Mrs. Agnes smiles down at me and I nod in contentment, imagining a picture in her photo album with me, Jonathan, Teresa, and Mr. and Mrs. Agnes in it._

_Then, through my thoughts, I hear a soft song. "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are grey. You'll never know dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away." Mrs. Agnes chuckles when she's finished, brushing back my red hair. "I begged her to sing that song all the time…"_

_I peer up at her, smiling a small smile. "Mrs. Agnes, can I call you mom?"_

"_Nothing would make me happier," she says. "C'mon, let's get you to bed." She picks me up, carrying me back down the hallways._

_I smile warmly, hugging the woman tightly to me. "Mom, sing the song again."_

_Mom- Mrs. Agnes- laughs gently, slipping back into my room with me. Then, she started out into the melody, sleep taking me before she could lay me down on my bed._

…

"_Lizzie, love, wake up." _

I stir from the deep sleep, realizing that this is the most sleep I've gotten in the last few days. My eyes flicker around, seeking out the one who woke me. In the darkness of my hut I see Newt hovering over me, his brown eyes gentle. His left eye is heavily bruised and his right seems fine; his nose is a bit crooked but nothing more and maybe a bit swollen. Newt smiles gently, shaking me once more. I prop myself up on my elbows, my eyes adjusting to the dim light. Thomas is still next to me, snoring softly, wound up in the bedding.

I smile up at Newt. "You look a lot better than you did yesterday." My voice reaches a soft whisper, afraid I'd wake Thomas. "Not sure that I can say I like you better looking rough n' tough, though."

Newt snickers. He points out into the dim light that fills the Glade and smiles crookedly. "Wanna go on a walk? Then we'll start our day. I think you'll get out of this funk if we get up and moving."

"Do I have to?" I ask. I slump back down onto the bed, hugging my blanket tightly to me. I look up at Newt from a hole in the blanket and he beams at me. "Does that mean no? Please say yes!" Then the smiles falls into a smug grin and he simply points out the door. "Yeah, yeah…I'm comin'." I push the blanket off of me, fixing Thomas' blanket over his sleeping form. He stirs lightly, turning onto his stomach, hugging a pillow to his body.

Newt cocks his eyebrow. "I take it that he's a cuddler? How do you bloody stand that?"

"It's cute and endearing," I say quietly as I slide into my boots, lacing them up. "I think that if you had a significant other you'd understand the feeling." Then I stand, stretching my arms over my head as I accompany him outside. "You mad anymore, Newt?"

"No," Newt says. We make our way towards the trees, walking side by side, and feet hitting the ground in unison. "I was wroth, yes. But I wasn't mad at you- I've never been able to be mad at you in the week I've known you. I was mad at Gally- so bloody angry!" His brown eyes are alive with anger. "I couldn't believe he had the nerve to hit you like that. There you were…poor little thing, with a busted lip and a black eye and you had a welt the shape of a hand print."

I gulp. I'm afraid of what they'll do with him. "Newt, what are you guys going to do with Gally?"

"It's too early to tell. We're going to have a Gathering…sentence him. Clint talked to us and said you didn't want him to go out into the Maze," Newt says. "I could understand why you were so upset. You were distressed over the whole Maze deal- terrified of the Grievers. I could relate to your fear. So we're going to do something else. People say the Slammer; Alby things that we need to whip him…"

I shake my head. "I don't believe you should do anything to him."

"Why kind of people would we be if we let Gally run around unpunished? Say I hit you? What if Thomas hit you?" Newt asks.

"Those are two different things, Newt. You wouldn't touch me- neither would Thomas. Needless to say if you two did, though, you'd be in the Deadheads," I say. "Gally's rash, he's irrational, but he was scared for me."

Newt huffs. Then his brown eyes lock onto me and I can tell he's searching for words to say. He has something to tell me but he can't covey to me what it is. He's scared… "Besides that…I wanted to ask you about something, love."

I nod. "What's that?"

"I'm remembering things. I don't know how to tell you one, though," Newt says. "I was in the Homestead when it hit me- something triggered it. I can't remember exactly but my vision blurred and I saw… I saw a baby."

I cock my eyebrows at him. "Excuse me, sir?"

"I saw a _baby, _love. You know…little thing that likes to crawl around? Screams and cries?" Newt asks.

"Yes, slinthead, I know what you're talking about." I turn towards him, wracking my mind to remember what had happened.

"Shuck…he was beautiful. Little thing with reddish-blonde curls and big brown eyes; smiling and laughing and everything," Newt says. He smiles fondly as if the little thing is here right now. The way Newt talks is the way a father would describe his child. "He was sitting in _your _lap, clapping his hands and laughing. He looked like you- so beautiful like you. You were smiling and all, holding him. His name was Alexander- Alex."

I grit my teeth. "Newt, are you saying we…ehh…ya' know?"

"I don't know what the shuck happened! Lizzie, love, I'm confused."

"If you could explain I'd love it. I'm so confused," I say quietly. "Could've we been together before Thomas? It doesn't seem logical. You were in the Glade a year before I came and a year ago I was fourteen! Newt…I…"

Newt groans. "I hoped you would know, love…"

"Only I and Thomas knew something about that name- Alex. Now you're suggesting that he's my son? No, let me rephrase that- our son. Mine and Thomas' son? Newt, please, tell me…I'm so confused. Hell…what if Alex winds up somewhere here in the Glade? If he's mine and Thomas'- fine. But what am I going to tell my damn boyfriend that the kid he thinks is his belongs to you?!"

"Easy, love, easy," Newt says. "We'll cross that bridge when it's time…"

"You're not thinking, Newt," I snap. "This might not be a big deal to you. Okay, you got a kid out of it. That fine and dandy for you. But what am I going to tell Thomas whom I've been with since he got here and before that that the kid he probably raised is yours?"

Newt simply studies me and he starts towards me. I wind my arms around him tightly, breathing in shakily. "Lizzie, love, it's okay. We'll figure it out…"

"You're damn skippy we're going to figure this out!" I say, smacking his chest.

Newt winces. "Ouch. That hurt, love."

"I hope it hurt," I say quietly. Arms crossed I wait for Newt to quietly recover and I struggle to calm my panic down to a minimum.

Newt nudges me playfully. "C'mon, you can help me wake our lovely patch of Brussels Sprouts up…" He point to the Homestead where the boys are still sleeping, snoring loudly. "Think you're up for the task?" Damn it, Newt knows I'm competitive.

I smile happily at him. Then we walk together back to the Homestead, but Alex still at the top of our minds.

…

After waking fifty plus boys we get on with our day. It feels relatively normal today with working and the constant company of Thomas who works alongside me in the Gardens. I felt normal to a certain extent- although the origins of Alex were bothersome. I asked myself why I could have done something like that… I'm not that kind of girl to sleep with different guys. I can only ever remember sleeping with Thomas.

When our first break rolls around Thomas and I settle beneath a tree in the garden, apples in hand for a morning snack. "Thomas, can you remember anything about Alex?" I look up at him, studying his facial features. His features brighten and he smiles, clearly remembering him.

"I do," Thomas says. "I saw him last night…in a dream? No, a memory. It was a memory. But he looked just like you, swear he did. He had big blue eyes and reddish-blonde curls. I remember you dashing up to meet him…"

I cock my eyebrows. "What do you mean by 'meet him,' Thomas?" I know that when women have children they can't run up and "meet them." "You mean as in like us getting him? What does that mean?"

"I saw a woman in my memory- tall and blonde and she held a baby. She had…given us the baby. I remember you were worried- maybe it was about the baby or something. I'm not sure. But I remember your eyes lighting up when she had called us. You held him close and rocked him like he was your own."

A sense of relief washes through me. The ridiculous fear of me sleeping with Newt is gone, but I feel saddened because he's not a product of me and Thomas. Plus…how could he look like me if he's not mine? "Did the woman mention who he belonged to?"

"One of the boys," Thomas says. His faces pales and then regains color, and then it pales again. "It was one of the boys…and your sister."

I take in a shaky breath, looking up to Thomas for conformation. "I'm so confused, Thomas. I was scared and then… But Alex…our son? He's my sister's? And I think I have a good idea of who the father is…" I watch as Thomas scours his mind for a name and I point to Newt who is talking to Zart. "Him, Thom, he's the father."

The mystery of Alex had been solved… But how am I to tell Newt that the son he thinks he has with me isn't mine…officially, anyways. Also, the mystery of my missing sister who had the blonde boy's child…


	12. Crumbling Down

**Ehh…I'm sorry? I know I haven't updated in quite a while, so don't hate me for that. I had some major Writer's Block and inspiration just hit me once more to write. On from that- I've focused this chapter in more on Lizzie's memories of Alexander and we'll get some more light in on his background with Lizzie, Thomas, Teresa, and Newt.**

**Let me know if there's anything particular you'd like to see!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Maze Runner.**

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><p>I push the plow, the soil breaking open from the blade. I can hear the lively chatter of the Glade- everybody is buzzing with activity and life. I look to my left and I see Thomas. He's in the trees, picking fruit and conversing with Zart. When I look to my right I see Newt, alive and happy with what he has set in his mind. In my mind I think things…to have him stop bothering me. Alexander is his son…but I'm not his mother- biological, anyways. I can tell the way Newt smiles he is happy- he's content with me. When we talked earlier I could see the admiration in his doe-like eyes. It was enough to make be believe the boy loves me, in which I cannot return those feelings.<p>

I look away from Newt, continuing the till up the earth when I feel my hands go rigid on the wooden handles of the plow.

…

"_Chancellor Paige, what'll become of my sister's son? Will you let Mr. Janson have him? Please, for what little hope is left in this damned world, I beg you not to give him to that monster. He'll use him; my nephew will die slowly at the bastard's hands."_

"_No worries, Elizabeth," Ava says. "I wouldn't let anything happen to him. I'll hand him over to you and Thomas. You know how I'm against all this- using these poor souls as test subjects for the Flare. I couldn't let anything happen to him."_

"_I fear because the father is…"_

"_Yes, Subject A5…Newt. In fact, if Janson ever found out that your nephew was the son of a test subject quite frankly I'd imagine the child's future bleak," she replies. "That's why you and Thomas are going to frame him as yours. We tell them that your pregnancy went undetected; our finest machinery was able to detect the life inside. How old is he, Elizabeth?"_

"_He is just three days old," I say quietly._

"_Perfect," she says. "So with that he's yours. Congratulations, Elizabeth…you have a son. As another word…what will his name be?"_

"_His name will be Alexander- after the great conqueror Alexander the Great. With our names comes destines? Isn't that what you say, Chancellor?"_

"_Yes," she laughs. "Alexander…the one who will conquer the Flare. The one who will conquer the new world! I'll send supplies to your apartment, Elizabeth. Prepare for him by tomorrow. Then you'll meet your Alexander."_

…

My heart hammers in my chest. Where is he? Where is Alexander? Did he come to the hands of the man both the woman and I mentioned in the memory?

…

"_Lizzie, baby, you're jumping out of your skin! We're going to pick Alexander up shortly…" Thomas kisses my forehead, pulling a shirt over his head. After he does so he cups my face in his hands, smiling a gentle smile. "We'll meet him in moments…" He stops for a moment, looking into my eyes. "It's not getting him you're nervous about is it?"_

_I shake my head. I've thought nonstop about Teresa…how she just left her son like this. Leaving me to take care of a child I'm not sure how to raise because, quite frankly, I'm not sure how to. Chancellor Paige says he looks enough like me to be mine- a cute little devil, to be truthful. Just her describing images of him made me fall in love with him. But, the darkness of the question of Alexander's existence looms above me. I cannot let Mr. Janson find out about him because his life will be grim and miserable. They'd use him as a test subject, I'm sure- do him just like they did his father, Newt._

_I smile shakily before it falls just as quickly as it came. "I… I just can't believe Teresa would do this. She said she wouldn't leave anybody behind this time, Thomas. She swore to me before the baby was born she'd stay! She'd protect him and me. The nerve!"_

"_You're getting upset," Thomas soothes. "I don't know why Teresa left, baby. I can't tell you why. I don't know whether she was scared or what. Was it for the right reasons- leaving Alexander behind? No, it wasn't. This is her own fault and she should own up to her mistake. And I hate it, Elizabeth, because you're burdened with this- we're burdened with this. Lizzie, I know were young…young teenagers fifteen and sixteen years old, but we're going to make this, sweetheart."_

_I smile shakily up at him, wrapping my arms around him in a tight embrace. "I'm scared."_

"_I am, too, baby," Thomas says. We sway side to side, the motion comforting me. "What scared you about it?"_

"_That Janson will find out about Alex," I say. "I'm afraid I'll screw up! I'm terrified I'll fall back into known habits. I'm afraid I'll end up just like my father!"_

_Thomas pulls away, looking down at me. His eyes are stern, which worries me. "Elizabeth Agnes, you're nothing like that monster. When I look into your eyes, I see kindness and love and warmth. You're sweet and gentle… You're nothing like that monster. Despite your upbringing you've became a strong woman I love. You're going to make a better future for our son. You can start doing that right now by letting go of the thoughts of being like that bastard that left you with a lifetime worth of scars."_

_I stare up at him, eyes watering violently with tears. Thomas wipes away tears with his thumbs, smoothing back my hair. "You're going to be a great mother. Despite the obstacles thrown, you're going to be great. I have faith in you…and I'm here every single step of the way." He pulls me tightly into his arms, holding me close. His lips touch my forehead then ghost over the bridge of my ear and then down to my lips, his lips caressing mine gently. "You can do this because you're strong; because in your heart you know you love your sister and Alexander."_

_I pull back from him, staring into his doe brown eyes. "I love you."_

"_And I love you," Thomas says. He places a firm kiss on my forehead before drawing back, stroking my cheek. "Come on. Chancellor Paige is waiting with the baby… Are you ready to meet our son?"_

…

_Thomas and I walk silently to our site of meeting. Holding my hand he leads me into a deserted conference room in the WICKED facility. My panic begins getting the better of me, my heart pounding and each step shaky and unstable. But all of the feelings of dread and fear fade as we step inside the small conference room, Chancellor Paige standing, walking around the room, holding a bundle of white blankets in her arms._

"_Thomas; Elizabeth," Chancellor Paige says. She walks quietly to the two of us, holding the baby close to her. Over the top of the blankets I see a tuft of strawberry blonde hair Alexander inherited from our late biological mother. I see fair skin and cherubic features that make him more beautiful and breathtaking than ever. "He's been waiting to meet you all morning."_

_I look at Thomas and he nods, smiling gently. "You're his mother. I want you to hold him first." The way the word "mother" rolls off his tongue seems natural… Then, Thomas gently nudges me forwards, and I peer down into the bundle of white blankets. He's so tiny in the mass of blankets and in Chancellor Paige's arms. My heart pounds when he opens his eyes and I see eyes the color of the ocean. I reach out for him as if I've done it before, Chancellor Paige placing Alexander in my arms._

_Alexander looks up at me, eyes bright. "Hi, Alex." I smile at him, watching as he reaches up with a single chubby hand and places it on my chest, patting it. "I don't know a whole lot about being a mother….but I'll try." He boy in my arms looks like me with the sharp facial features and the tininess. His hair and eyes are identical to mine. I've been graced with the fact of the matter that he resembles my family more than he does Newt. As he grows I think he'll look more like Teresa, but I believe his eyes will change color to brown like his father's. _

_I turn to Thomas carefully who takes Alexander from my arms with the greatest care. Thomas looks terrified as he adjusts Alexander in his arms, face pale. I watch as Alexander's face screws into a mask of upset and he begins to cry, Thomas' face twisting into a frown. "What have I done wrong?"_

"_You're too tense," I say. I take the baby from him, Alexander's cries ceasing. "Relax your body."_

"_I'm afraid I'll drop him if I relax."_

"_Relax," I say. I watch as Thomas lets the muscles in his body relax and I gently hand Alexander back to him. Thomas eases his breathing, putting a little bounce in his step as he holds Alex close to his body. He smiles gently, smoothing down Alexander's hair and places a kiss against his little warm forehead._

_Thomas looks between me and Alexander. "He's so beautiful." His eyes shine and a smile spreads across his face. "He looks just like you, Elizabeth." He laughs gently, his past fear forgotten. He takes Alexander in, face alive with pride…with the love of a father loving his son. Thomas walks over, cradling the baby in his left arm and brings me to him with his right. "I think we're going to do just okay, Lizzie." Thomas' big brown eyes flicker to Chancellor Paige. He smiles. "Thank you, for letting us keep him."_

"_No need for thanks," Chancellor Paige says. "Alexander should be with his family."_

_I cock an eyebrow at her. "How will we go about…announcing his arrival?"_

"_I'll come up with something shortly. For now, you need to go home. You're supposed to be resting." Chancellor Paige winks and Thomas chuckles, wrapping an arm tightly around me. "I'll call on you later to check up on Alexander. I wish you three the best of luck and a happy life…" Chancellor Paige leaves the room, leaving me behind with Thomas and the baby._

_Thomas smiles down at me, brown eyes twinkling. "I love you…both of you." He bends down, placing a kiss against Alexander's forehead. Then he leans forwards, kissing me sweetly. "Look at him…our son." Our son…_

…

My eyes snap up to see Thomas in front of me. His eyes are dark, his face pale. He has disengaged me from the plow and pulled me to the side of the garden, holding me steady by the shoulders. I watch as he lifts his hand carefully and the pads of his fingers ghost across my face, his hands trembling.

"Elizabeth?" Thomas asks carefully. It takes me a minute to respond but I manage a shaky smile. Thomas lets out a sigh of relief and helps me stand now that I'm back into reality. "Are you okay? You blanked out on me there for a minute."

I open my mouth to speak, taking in a shaky breath as I do so. "I'm fine. I think I'm fine."

Thomas smiles bitterly. I frown, reaching up to touch his face. "Thomas, what's wrong?" I wind my arms tightly around him, peppering the side of his face with kisses. He leans into my touch, offering a smile that is bitter. "Thom?"

"Alby and Minho isn't back yet. They went into the Maze to see about a Griever… Lizzie, it's getting late. The walls are going to close," Thomas says fearfully.

I close my eyes, thinking about the terrors that lie inside the Maze. I take a deep breath, looking back up to Thomas. "They're going to make it back, Thom. They're not going to stay out there long." I brush back Thomas' bangs and he gives me a sad smile. I envelop him in my arms, feeling him burrow his face into my neck. He plants a soft kiss against my throat, resting gently against me.

"I hope you're right, baby," Thomas says. After a few minutes he pulls back, running his fingers through my hair. "How are you doing? About the Maze…about Alex?"

I shake my head. "I haven't thought much about the Maze. I still have nightmares, though. Alexander, though…there's so many mixed emotions there I'm struggling to discover. I'm…I'm angry. I'm so confused, Thomas. I'm happy, too."

Thomas frowns. "What are you angry about, baby?"

"I'm so angry with Teresa," I say. As I say it I laugh, shaking my head. "Shuck, listen at me. I'm angry at a person whom I don't really remember! I'm mad."

Thomas sighs. "You have every right to think that. You should be angry."

I push myself close to him, the boy embracing me. He holds me close, swaying side to side with me in his arms. I feel tears streak down my face and I shake my head, hiding my face in his chest. Thomas kisses my forehead, brushing my hair back. "Why are you crying, baby?"

"I don't know," I say bitterly. "I'm just so confused. I'm scared, Thomas."

"It's okay," Thomas soothes. He steps back and cups my face in his hands, wiping away the tears streaking down my face. "We're going to get through this. We always have."

I nod weakly, hugging him close once more. "It's going to work out."

"It's going to work out," Thomas repeats.

I only hope it does. I want everything to be okay not only for myself but Thomas…and little Alexander wherever he is. Anger swims about in my heart thinking that Teresa abandoned her son…that she abandoned me again. If I see her again will she remember? If she doesn't what will I do about the bitter seed planted in my heart for her? God…what if she remembers Alexander? What if she remembers Newt?

My world just seems to come crashing down further and further. I'm in a mess I can't get out of.


	13. They're The Last Ones Ever

**Hope that everybody likes this chapter. I have a very special surprise waiting at the end!**

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><p>I stare into the depths of the Maze, heart pounding against my chest. The thought of Minho and Alby still out there bothers me. It's nearing evening and the gates close at the first signs of sun-down, and I fear that they're going to be stuck out there for the rest of the night. Just because Gally and I made it back doesn't mean that they will. Gally and me making it back to the Glade was a one-in-a-million chance- Minho and Alby's chances of surviving the night are slim to nothing if they don't make it back in time.<p>

My stomach churns at the thought of them facing the Grievers. They terrifying and ferocious- beasts made to kill us Gladers. Would they last at the presence of a Griever? What about several of them? I feel my body tremble, a chilly breeze sweeping through the Glade. But my body shudders at the remembrance of the Grievers' whirs and hisses and growls; the clanking of their metal claws; the smell of death on their breath. It scares and sickens me.

"Are they coming back?" I ask fearfully. My eyes flicker to Newt who stands close to me, trying to act as a person of security and comfort. The ginger haired boy smiles bitterly. "Newt, are they gonna come back?"

Newt winds his arm around my shoulders gently. "I don't know, love."

I shake my head. "Thanks for trying to make me feel better." I roll my eyes, staring ahead at the Maze's walls. I begin to feel sick at the sight of them and I turn my back, bring my hands to my face. I groan before allowing them to drop to my sides, squeezing my eyes shut at a pounding headache and the pain in my jaw. "They shouldn't have gone!"

"They're trying to see what the bloody hell is going on. Lizzie, love, they're trying to see what brought on Ben's sting… No Runner has ever been stung in broad daylight, Lizzie," New says quietly. "They still have some time, Liz'. Besides, we wouldn't be able to do anything really to help them. You know the Rules, love."

"Your Glade's damn Rules," I huff. I look to Newt, frowning. Before, when I looked at him, I was so damn happy. Newt, whom I love deeply and is my best friend, makes me shudder when I look at him. Was it because I despised him for being the father of my child or the fact that he thinks that I am the biological mother and he thinks I'm the woman who helped make the tiny creation? Whatever the reason, I'm not sure of.

Newt pats my back gently. "Rules are rules, love. You know that one about the Maze better than anybody here." The blonde boy hugs me, placing a kiss against the side of my cheek. "I'll catch up with you later, Lizzie. Why don't you go find Tommy Boy, eh?"

I nod. "Thomas… Yeah, I'll go find Thomas." I give a weak wave to Newt and weave my way through the Glade, particularly upset. I'm questioned on the way there by several of the boys. Winston pesters me of my mood; Frypan, the quiet fellow, hugs me and shakes the holy heck out of me; a few whose names I still struggle to remember ask several questions and offer hugs that I dismiss. I just want to find Thomas. Soon I find my way to the tall platform, seeing Thomas' legs swinging back and forth. His head rests on the railing, eyes closed. He is thinking hard about something.

"Thom?" I ask quietly. I look up to my zoned-out boyfriend to see big brown eyes staring down at me. I smile shakily and he offers the smile back.

Thomas nods his head. "C'mon, get up here." The brown haired boy watches me closely and I begin to ascend the stairs leading up to the platform, soon opening the door over the top of it. Thomas is turned to face me, his face pale. "Hey, are you okay? You're just out of sorts today and…"

I smile grimly. "I'm just tired is all, Tommy. I'm upset, too."

"What about, baby?" Thomas asks. He pats the sturdy wood next to him and I sit, the feeling of him intertwining our fingers comforting me. "God, you're as cold as ice, Lizzie." Thomas winds his arms around me tightly, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead.

I snuggle close to Thomas, hiding my head in his chest. "I'm scared for Minho and Alby; I keep thinking about the baby and Newt and…" I trail off, huffing. I rest my head against Thomas' muscled chest, taking a deep breath. He strokes my right cheek as not to make the condition of my left cheek worse, soothing me. "Everything is just so confusing, Thomas."

Thomas smiles. "Everything's going to be okay." He peppers my forehead with kisses, the ghost of a smile on his face. He pulls back, looking down at me. I see pain in his eyes- suffering of some sort. I frown and his face distorts into a mask of upset. "Elizabeth, baby… I know, Lizzie, I know. Alby and Minho still have time to make it back. They have about three more hours- they'll make it back." As he speaks he makes it sound as though he is trying to convince himself. "As for Alex…we'll make it work." Thomas falls silent and he then looks back down at me, a new thought coming to his mind. "Lizzie, what if Teresa somehow pops up…and Alex, too? Would you tell her…you know?"

I bite my tongue, afraid of what I'll say. I allow it to flow, telling him what I fear. "Yes. No. I don't know! If she wanted him, she wouldn't have left. If she wanted the baby she wouldn't have left him for us to worry. Would she still want him? Would she remember him?"

Thomas sighs. "We're going to have to discuss this, Lizzie. What about Newt, though? I don't like the fact that he thinks he fathers a child with you."

I fall back against the wood of the platform, groaning. I give a solid kick to the wooden boards beneath me. I become frustrated, hiding my face in my hands, now allowing Thomas to see the look of sheer aggravation on my face. Thomas bends over, pulling my hands away gently. His lips touch mine for a moment before he pulls away, his eyes holding love and understanding.

"It's okay to be frustrated, Elizabeth," Thomas says gently.

I smile painfully at him. Thomas gathers me in his arms, hugging me close. I take in a shaky breath, soothing my shot nerves. "We have enough to deal with. Why do we have to remember? I don't wanna remember…"

"There's a reason for everything that happens, baby," says Thomas. "It's going to be okay, Lizzie, I promise."

"You promise?" I ask hoarsely.

"Promise," Thomas answers. He leans his cheek against my head, rocking me side-to-side.

We stay there, enjoying the silence when we notice the sky beginning to turn dark. My eyes flicker up to see dark clouds gathering, dampening my mood. Thomas rubs my back, catching notice of my irritation. He mutters something about "perfect timing" and stands, taking me with him. As we walk thunder sounds, shaking the ground. "Let's get down from here, okay?"

I nod. I follow Thomas down to the overhang, watching the sky turn darker and darker when a sickening clap of thunder sounds, making me cringe. Thomas wraps his arms around me tightly, nuzzling my cheek. "It's okay," he says. "It's just a thunder storm. It'll pass by shortly."

"You think I was scared of them, Thomas?" I ask.

Thomas nod, kissing me softly on the side of the neck. "You're terrified of them, actually."

"Thanks for alleviating the fear, jackass," I say bitterly. I look up as rain beings to pour violently from the sky. I look away, hugging close to Thomas who situates us both in his hammock, rocking me back and forth. The claps of thunder come closer together and as Thomas said, I'm scared of them. I flinch and cringe and nearly scream at the thunder and the lightening when it lights the darkened sky.

…

"They're coming back," I say bitterly. "Somebody has to go in there after them." I look painfully into the Maze, hoping to see Alby and Minho. They haven't shown up. Three hours are almost up- we're down to minutes, now.

Newt glares at me. "Oh? You want to go in there after them and get yourself bloody killed again? I believe you're mad, woman." Newt shakes his head, pointing sternly to the Maze. "You're not stepping foot in that hellhole, love. Do I make myself clear?"

I roll my eyes. "I'm not a baby, prick."

"Easy there," Thomas says. He rubs my back, kissing my forehead gently. "Calm down. Besides, you can't go back in there. I wouldn't let you. Not after what you've been through."

"But what about what they'll go through?" I ask. "They've been gone since early this morning. There's a chance one of them is injured and is having to lug the other one back. Maybe they're both hurt. Somebody has to get them."

Newt nudges me. "Lizzie, love, the Walls close in mere minutes. Do you understand you're subject to another bloody night of hell if you stay in there? Besides, it is Glade Rules nobody except Runners leaves the Glade. You're keeping yourself planted right here. There's nothing we can do to get them."

I open my mouth to argue when the walls begin to close. I feel my heart sink, my blood running cold. This is true. They're not coming back. My eyes flicker to Newt who looks hopeless; I turn to Chuck to see he's pained; my eyes flicker to Thomas to see him slowly suffering. I turn my head, not wanting to see the walls close. It'll pain me too much.

"Look!" Chuck screams.

My head snaps back to see Minho carrying Alby over his shoulders, barreling down the long cement corridor with him. My hopes lift up a bit as I see Minho run, this time dragging Alby behind him. I let out a shriek of encouragement, yelling and hollering with the rest of the boys. But our pleas fall to deaf ears as the doors begin to close up. There's no way he'll get back.

I feel a jerk. I expect my body to launch forwards- to go out and help them. But this time it isn't me. It's Thomas letting me go, racing to the Maze. "No! Thomas!" "What do you think you're doing?!" "You stupid shuck!" My hand falls from his and I watch in horror as Thomas works his way through the closing walls. I work my way to follow him, screaming at him to stop, but I'm caught by strong arms.

"It was his choice, Lizzie." I look over my right shoulder to see Gally. He holds me tight, refusing to let go. "He's gone into the Maze."

I shake my head. "No! No! No!" I disengage myself from Gally, launching myself at the closing walls. I fall on my knees in front of the Maze, staring at Thomas who is nearly consumed by its walls. "Thomas!"

I see a grim smile and a movement of his lips. _I love you, Elizabeth._

…

"No, he's not gone! Stop saying that! Stop saying it!" I scream hatefully. The crowd of boys continues to tell me that it is highly unlikely Thomas is coming back. They chime in, trying to tell my softly that Thomas is gone. But he isn't. Thomas is gone. He's not dead. He's going to come back to me. "He's coming back!"

Gally starts this time. "Lizzie, we made it by sheer luck. He may not have that. Plus with Alby on their hands this makes it a thousand times harder."

"He's going to make it back," I sob. I allow my back to slide down against the Maze's Walls, hiding my face in my arms, holding my knees to my chest. "Why do you keep saying that?! He's coming back. He's coming back…"

Newt's arms wind around me. His voice replaces Gally's. He whispers calmly into my ear. The only other male being in the Maze that can calm me down, he makes use of his gentle words and all. "Lizzie, love, it's all right. I have hope for them. We're not losing hope, Liz'." The blonde boy kisses my forehead, hushing me as I sob into his chest. "Oh, love, it's okay. Come on, we're going to go back to the Homestead. We're going to wait there, okay?"

"No… Need to wait here," I stutter. My lisp becomes more prominent as I become more upset. I lose control, stuttering with every word, sounding like I had the first day I had come here to the Glade. "Stay here! Thomas…coming back. Have to wait!"

Newt sighs. "Lizzie, waiting here and crying isn't going to make him live or die. C'mon, we're going back to the Village. At daylight we're going to come back here and see if they're back. It's late, Liz'; time to go and hit the sack." The boy lifts me up, placing me on my feet. He winds his arm gently around my tiny waist, pulling me close to him. If I wasn't so shaken I'd pull away from him.

_You said you'd stay with me, _I think. He made me swear countless times that I'd never leave again. I swore every time not to step foot back in that Maze. I made him swear, too. But he left. Thomas left me. I screw my eyes shut, following Newt over silently to the Homestead where I don't take the notion to sit down. I pace, kicking up dirt behind me. None of the boys dare say a word, knowing I'll become angrier than I am. After leaving a rivet in the floor of the Homestead I begin pacing the Glade.

"Liz', you need to sit-" Gally is cut off abruptly by Newt whom shakes his head.

"No, let her walk. She needs to slim down," Newt replies. "She'll work herself out of it here in a bit. We all know that she needs space to breathe." The blonde's voice fades, taking Gally with him.

I begin pacing the Glade one more, raking my fingers through my hair; I stand close to the entrance of the Maze; I curse myself for not holding him back or doing something to intervene. Is this what Thomas felt when I went into the Maze? Did he feel angry at my stupidity? Did he feel the sheer panic of death looming close? Did he feel pain because he'd be alone if I didn't make it back?

"You've made your point!" I scream, looking to the Maze. "I understand! I know what it's like to feel the pain of losing somebody you love! I know what he felt like!" I feel my legs collapse beneath me, my body falling to the ground. "Give me Thomas back. I want Thomas."

…

I spend my night alone in my tiny hut in the back of the Glade. I can hear the loud growls and whirrs of the Grievers; I hear Thomas scream, too. Loud, blood curdling screams in a fight for his life. All night between my bouts of anger and reality, I'm pushed back down into vicious flashbacks of my night in the Maze. I can still smell the stench of rotten flesh and blood on the Griever's mouth; I still experience the heart pounding fear of being chased; my body still spasms from bouts of pain from falling and running.

When morning rolls around I somehow stumble back out to the opening of the Maze, my agony forgotten. Some of the boys are already out there- Chuck and Zart are. Newt is still asleep. I join them, sitting in the grassy field as I wait the dreaded moment that they'll be back or not. I'll discover if I'm alone or not in the Glade.

"I have hope," Chuck says. The curly haired boy looks to me, a gentle smile on his face. He wears an expression of determination. "They're going to be back. I know they are. If Thomas is anything like you, he's waiting for the Walls to open. We're going to see him."

I smile painfully, looking down to the ground until I hear the slightest creak. Like a chain reaction, that creak turns into a groan and then the sounds of gears shifting. I watch with careful eyes but my body is like a wire. My heart pounds and I breathe shakily. Zart and Chuck pulls me to my feet and I feel strong arms wind around me from behind. My eyes flicker over my shoulder to see Newt.

Wind blows from the Maze, an icy breeze coming back on me. I turn my head to the left, closing my eyes to keep the dust out. When it stops I look back out into the long stretch to see if Thomas, Minho, and Alby have made it back. I keep my fingers crossed and as the dust clears, I feel my heart race. But I find nothing. They're not here. Nothing. Gone. Dead.

No… "They're not coming back," Newt says.

I feel my senses begin to dull. Words of comfort fall to deaf ears; my body falls into the dirt. The only thing audible to me is an ear-splitting shriek that deafens me and echoes throughout the Glade; it completely shakes my body. The scream is mine. I screamed the monstrosity. I stare into the Maze with wide eyes, tears beginning to stream down my face. He's not coming back. Thomas isn't coming back. No…Thomas. Thomas.

"Elizabeth!" I stare closely into the Maze, the only two people to ever call me my real name being Minho and Thomas. I watch as three figures make an appearance- a boy with hair as dark as midnight, a dark skinned boy limp in two boys' arms, and a boy with eyes the color of amber. Thomas. I feel my unsteady legs force me from the ground and I launch myself for Thomas who carries in an unconscious Alby with Minho's help.

I catch Thomas just as he hits the ground, the boy wrapping his arms tightly around me. I don't cry; I don't curse him. I hold him and he holds me, comforting my shaken state. "Thomas." I hide my head in the crook of his neck, breathing in and out shakily.

"S'kay," Thomas says. "I'm here. Elizabeth…"

He pulls away, still holding me close, though. My eyes flicker to Alby to see him lying on the ground, his body unmoving. He's lifeless it seems. I reach out, placing two fingers on his neck to feel a rapid pulse beneath my fingers. "What's wrong with him?"

"Got stung," Minho says mournfully. I reach out and pat his head of unruly hair gently, still clinging to Thomas. Minho leans into my touch and I sigh, patting his cheek carefully before taking my hand away. My eyes flicker to Alby, fearing he'll suffer the same fate as Ben had when they forced him into the Maze.

I turn my head, leaning my head against Thomas' muscled chest. Thomas' lips touch my forehead and the action soothes me. "I was so scared. Don't make me feel that way again. Thomas, please…" He sighs, placing a kiss against my forehead once more.

"I'm staying here, Elizabeth, I promise," Thomas says gently. The exhausted boy leans his head against mine, his body becoming weak. "I'm sorry, baby…" He pulls back and I see the horrors of the Maze in his eyes. He manages a smile. "I love you."

I smile weakly. "I love you, too."

We fall silent until Chuck's voice fills the air. "So…you saw a Griever?" His question is to Thomas. I had my fair share of questions with telling about Grievers in the past four or five days.

Thomas nods. "I saw one. I saw a Griever." Thomas takes in a shaky breath, finally understanding why they are so terrifying.

"He didn't only see one… This shuck killed one," Minho says quietly.

I turn to look at Thomas, taking his face in my hands. His face is pale; I can see the horror laced determination that had motivated him to kill that thing. "You killed one? How did you…" Thomas' face turns blank and he moves robotically, hiding his face in the crook of my neck, his breathing shaky. I feel warm tears against the skin on my neck.

"It's okay," I whisper calmly. "C'mon, why don't we go get you cleaned up, huh?"

Thomas nods and I stand, gently taking him with me. Me, the weak one, is soothing him through all this? He should be holding me right now, listening to me scream and cry and cuss him. But I'm tired of the feeling of weakness and desperation. Thomas needs to be able to cry, too, though.

I sit Thomas down on a bench, taking a clean rag that was washed earlier from its rightful place on the drying wrack and submerge it into a bowl of water I had taken from the several barrels we have set up to collect rain water. I wring out the excess water and begin to wash off his dirty face, working off the dirt, sweat, and trails of dried tears.

"What scared you the most, Thomas?" I ask quietly, this time washing his neck down. "Was it the twisting of the Maze's walls? The Grievers?"

Thomas nods. "Grievers. But nothing would ever prepare me for thinking I'd never come back to you. I was torn… Out there, in that Maze, I relived everything you had. I'll never know fear like that again, I hope."

"But now you're here," I say. I soak the rag back in water, this time having him take off his shirt to allow me to wash off blood that has dried to his skin, revealing several nasty scratches and bruises. I press a kiss against his shoulder, feel his body shiver at my touch. "You're here now, Thomas. You're here with me."

Thomas reaches down, taking the wash cloth from my hands and casts it aside before drawing me close to him. I cling to him tightly, hiding my head in his bare shoulder. "I love you so much, Lizzie."

"And I love you, Thomas." I run my hands up his back, marveling at the feel of him- at the warmth of his skin. Thomas stands, taking me with him. "Hey, why don't you try to sleep? You've been up all night…"

Thomas smiles gently. "And you haven't caught a wink of sleep either. I think everybody is going to go and catch some rest." He nods his head towards the hoard of boys swarming back to their rightful places in their hammocks. Thomas winds his arm around my shoulders and we walk silently back to my own little hut. We duck inside of it, closing the door silently behind us. Thomas casts his filthy shirt aside, falling onto the bed and I follow, curling up close to him.

I look to Thomas to see his eyes are already dropping closed, his dark irises training in on me as they fight to stay open. "Go to sleep, Thomas. It's okay."

Thomas falls into sleep after a gentle nod, his arms locked around me. I take the notion to follow him, fears falling and emotions ebbing away. The relief of sleep washes over me in a tidal wave, soothing me as sleep drags me away from the world. Seconds more pass and I'm pulled off into unconsciousness where no dreams visit me.

…

Our sleep is short lived as we're woken up. I force my eyes open and prop myself up on an elbow to see Newt and Minho standing. Minho stands on my side of the bed, having woken me. Newt works on Thomas, rousing the exhausted boy.

"What's going on?" I ask, staring between Minho and Newt.

Newt nods his head out the door. "We have a meeting going on at Council Hall. Tommy Boy here is our Guest of Honor." He says it to be light and funny but I don't take it as funny and Thomas sure as hell doesn't. "Gally said everybody was to be there. We came to wake you two up and walk you around- get you awake."

I huff, looking to Thomas who manages a tired smile. The brown haired boy rolls out of bed and Minho pulls me out, slinging me over his shoulders. "You're not making this easy for me, jackass!" I hit Minho in the back, the boy only chuckling.

"Oh hush, Red, you're fine," Minho chides. "I thought you liked being carried? Besides, aren't you a cuddler?" Minho hugs me close to him, shaking the holy hell out of me. I groan, fighting his grip on me. "Sleep well, Lizzie?"

"No," I pout.

"You can go back to sleep after whatever Gally has to say. He's going to fuss and go on for a while and then we'll carry your skinny ass back here to go to sleep. Sound fair, Greenie Girl?" Minho swats my behind playfully and I hit him upset the head, evoking laughter from Thomas and Newt.

I glare at Thomas. "You're not saying anything? He just slapped my ass."

"Pansy," Thomas coughs. He cracks a smile that I feel my heart swoon for- the same smile that makes me fall in love with him each time I see him. Minho puts me down and I scatter to Thomas who is more than happy to take me. He wraps his left around tightly around my waist, not intending to let go. I feel his lips on my forehead and they linger there before he pulls away. We follow Newt to Council Hall and once under the large structure, I'm forced to part with Thomas who is directed to sit on a wooden crate and I'm told to sit next to Chuck.

Gally stands at the front of us. His green eyes flicker around, an angry look about his face. His face his bruised heavily from two days ago- his eye is black along with a bit of a crooked nose and a split lip. "Well we all could have been asleep but this couldn't wait much longer. Not with Shank over there breaking the rules along with the Greenie Girl."

Newt rolls his eyes distastefully. He shoots me a look saying I've done nothing wrong but I've done so much here…so many things wrong. "But, we'll leave Greenie Girl alone. She got what she deserved." Gally grins evilly. "By the way- how's your face feeling?"

"Don't talk to her like that," Thomas growls.

"Shut up," Gally warns. "Lizzie's out of this now. But…what about Thomas? He made a clear violation of our Rules. And, not to mention he killed one of the Grievers. We've co-existed with the things for three years. Who knows what this means for us." Gally falls silent, looking out into the crowd. They way he glares at us says he dares for somebody to speak out against him.

Gally looks back to Thomas distastefully. "I say he needs to be punished."

A sea of mutters follows and a few brave voices speak out against Gally's demand. Up front I can hear Minho speak out against Gally. "When we were out there in the Maze, I tailed it- left him behind with Alby strung up. He stayed behind- made sure Alby was safe. Made sure the job got done."

"So? He broke one of the Rules. We've lived in peace- lived together with them. Now he threatens everything we worked for," Gally sneers.

"I'm saying Alby and I would've been dead out there hadn't been for that stupid shuck over there," Minho says. "I don't know what Thomas is- stupid or brave. But whatever we have, we need more of it." Minho nods and I look to Thomas who looks a mix between pissed off and a tad bit confused.

Newt shrugs. "I say let's make him a Runner."

There are several voices that speak out at Newt. The blonde boy shrugs and looks to Thomas who looks around. He looks like he's going to faint. As Gally runs his mouth more we argue back and forth, screaming and bickering. It's only until we hear the ground rumble beneath us and two quick sirens go off. I look to Thomas, terrified. I take his hand once we're outside, running to the box despite Newt and the others wanting me to.

Newt and Gally opens the doors up and I stare at the Box as they flip back the metal top of the box, revealing two bodies inside.

Newt jumps in. "What's in there?!" a boy hollers. "Who is he?!"

"It's a girl," Newt says. Then I hear him gasp quietly. The boy is quick to take something up and I hear him calling me. "Lizzie, love, come here. Quickly, I need you down here." I rush forwards, looking into the Box. My heart pounds at seeing a girl curled up into a ball. Is that her? That's Teresa? As I look more closely I see another small body lying in a basket, swaddled in white blankets and his head is covered by a small white cap.

Newt looks up at me. He holds his arms out and I allow him to help me in. He reaches down, picking up the basket that holds my son…his son. "I don't know how to pick him up." I look down into the basket to see Alexander's little chubby face. His eyes are closed in slumber, his fists opening and closing in his sleep, though. I reach down carefully, picking the baby up and I cradle him close to my chest.

I smile. "Alexander…" I cradle him close to me, holding him out of sight of the boys as Thomas bends down to my sister, studying her over. My eyes flicker up to Thomas and his eyes are locked on Alexander. They're something of disbelief and amazement.

"Here, let's get you out," Thomas says.

"No," I say quietly. I look to Alexander and I see him opening his big blue eyes, staring up at me. "No. Here, I need you to take the baby."

"But what if she…" Thomas trails off.

I shake my head. "Nothing will happen. Here, take the baby." I hold Alexander up to Thomas who takes him with ease, cradling him close to his chest. I turn around to look at Teresa who lies still and I walk towards her, crouching down next to her. I look her over and I see a slip of white paper in her hands. I pull it out and hand it to Newt who opens it, reading it over.

_**They're the last ones ever.**_

Newt looks to me and then the boys. "They're the last ones ever? What the hell does that mean?"

Teresa's body spasms violent before she opens her eyes. I jump back, staring at my sister and she stares right back at me. Her breathing is erratic. "Elizabeth…" She holds my gaze until her head falls back, my sister once again falling into unconsciousness.

The only audible sounds coming from us are Alexander's gurgles. I turn, looking up to Thomas who looks down at me, sending me a look of comfort and then looks back to Alexander, the baby grasping Thomas' index finger with his.


End file.
